Forgiven
by TassanaBurrfoot
Summary: It has been five years since that fated dance under the stars. Five years since Draco held her close and kissed her gently on the lips. Can she ever forgive him of his crimes? (Sequel to Priceless
1. Chapter 1

Draco stared at the picture for a long moment. He watched as she twirled around in his arms. His favourite part of the picture, however, was when he took her in his arms and kissed her. The surprise on her face and then the slow melting of their bodies as she accepted him made him smile.

It had been five years since that fated night. She had been the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. When he first saw her walk into the ballroom, he had been immensely jealous of the boy whose arm she held. That should have been Draco. She should have been on his arm, not some stupid international Quidditch player.

Throughout the night, he had caught glimpses of her dancing with the boy until he could take it no longer. Frustrated, he left his date alone and took a walk along the castle grounds. He found himself by the lake and had decided to rest there for a while. Perhaps the night air could help calm him down. He had seen Colin Creevey, but had ignored the nuisance.

Then, as if Fate herself decided to smile upon Draco, the girl of his dreams came storming out of the castle and towards the Black Lake. She was furious and her voice was fiery as she screamed the most surprising obscenities. Even the year before when she had slapped Draco across the face, he had never seen her so angry. Then he realized that she wasn't angry. She was upset. Hurt. Listening closely to her words, he realized that it had been something Weasley had done to make her upset. That was when he had decided to make himself known to her.

They shared their dance and then they kissed. As they kissed, Draco saw and heard the distinct sights and sounds of a camera flashing. He had subtly glanced away from his partner just for a moment to see the Creevey boy walking away hurriedly.

Draco knew the dangers of that photograph and he knew he had to get it away from that boy and quickly. So, he left his dance partner with a kiss and followed the young Gryffindor, all the while trying to think of the fastest way to get that photograph out of the kid's possession. When he finally caught up to Creevey, he offered the kid money and was a bit surprised at how quickly the bribe worked.

Now Draco stared at the picture, remembering her laughter and her smile. Five years later, he still longed for her, but he knew his time had passed. Even if she were to forget his schoolyard bullying, there was still other things he had done. Things that had sealed his fate against her.

As if on cue, his left arm began to ache and burn in memory. He held the picture against his forehead and closed his eyes against the remembered pain. He could never expect her to forgive him. Never. Maybe if he had just stayed a bully. Maybe then he would have had a chance. After all, he could have easily passed it off as boys pulling girls pigtails. But this?

Becoming a Death Eater was unforgiveable. Watching his aunt torture her and doing nothing to stop it was unforgiveable. Offering himself back to the Dark Lord was unforgiveable.

Draco and his family had paid dearly for their crimes. His father was little more than a shell of his former self, sentenced to spend the next 20 years in Azkaban. While Draco and his mother still lived at the manor, the entire place had been almost completely cleaned out. All that remained were a few furnishings and the old portraits of long dead Malfoys. Well, and the portraits of Draco's own family, of course. Their bank accounts were nearly emptied after giving so much money to the victims and their families of the war.

Draco glanced down at the picture again. A single tear escaped his eyes as he looked upon it. The only saving grace he and his mother had had was the fact that the government fully believed they had been coerced into doing the Dark Lord's bidding because of Lucius and Bellatrix. He had to hand it to old Lucius. As much as the man had messed up, his last fatherly act before sentencing had been to confess to the judge and jury that he was the one who persuaded his family into staying with the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. He was the one who talked Draco into joining the Death Eaters.

Though, Draco knew that was only partially true. While Lucius had always held the Dark Lord in the highest regard, he never wanted Draco to be a Death Eater. In fact, Draco would not have joined had the Dark Lord not threatened his family. The moment Lucius got caught in the Ministry, Draco knew the Dark Lord would kill them all. Honestly, Draco hadn't known what else he could have done.

A knock at his door startled the young man and he looked up. He dropped the picture onto his desk as his mother entered his study. She, too, was a shell of her former self. Gone was the beautiful, vibrant woman his father had fallen in love with. Though she was still the strongest member in the family, Draco could see her strength faltering. Her blonde hair greyed along the edges and there were wrinkle marks along her eyes and mouth that hadn't been there before. There were bags under her eyes from sleepless nights and endless worries. She looked much older than she did five years ago. It was as if the absence of her husband and sucked all the happiness out of her, leaving her miserable and desolate.

Even her voice was hollow and lifeless as she rasped, "Draco?"

He gave her a pained smile as he stood up and walked up to her. He gave her a gentle hug, careful not to hug too tightly. She was so fragile now. Her lack of eating had given her a malnourished look. "Mother?" he whispered. "Is everything all right?"

She patted his chest as she returned his hug and moved past him towards his desk. "The Ministry is allowing visitors to the prison now," she told him, pulling out the latest addition of the Daily Prophet. "You should look into this and see when we'll be able to visit your father. I'm sure he would be more than happy to see us."

Draco took the paper from his mother and skimmed through the article. He wasn't exactly thrilled to see his father again after everything they had gone through, but he knew how important it was for his mother. "You will have to eat," he told her. "Father would not be happy to see you so thin."

She chuckled, though there was no real laughter in her face. "He always did want me to be skinny."

"Being skinny is different from being thin, Mother," he pointed out. "At least if you're skinny, you're still healthy. But this… when was the last time you ate anything?"

She rolled her eyes as she looked down at his desk. "Don't worry about me, Son, I…" she paused as her eyes fell upon the picture. She picked it up and looked at it. "What is this?"

Draco's eyes widened as he realized what she had stumbled upon. He quickly tried to shrug it off. "Just an old picture of…"

"Is that Hermione Granger?" she interrupted him.

The young man hung his head and let out a sigh. "Yes, it is."

"She looks different here," she mentioned as she studied the picture. "Why, she's positively glowing!"

His mother's eyes shot up to meet his. For the first time in years, Draco saw his mother's face light up. "Darling, do you know what this means?" she asked as she twirled around the room in sudden happiness.

Thinking his mother had lost her mind, Draco slowly shook his head. "It's just an old photograph," he started to say.

Narcissa's twirling came to a halt behind him, she reached over his shoulders to show him the picture. "Look at her face, Son. Look!" she happily chimed. "Look how happy she is! She could save our family, Draco."

Confused, his eyebrows knitted together as he took the picture from his mother and studied it. "I don't understand."

His mother gave a patient sigh as she practically spelled it out for him. "Isn't it obvious? She fancies you! If you date her… Or even better, if you were to marry her…"

Draco held a hand up. "Wait, Mother," he stopped her. "This picture was taken at the Yule Ball during our fourth year. Even if she fancied me then, there is no way those feelings have remained. I was a Death Eater, remember? And, in case you've forgotten, she was tortured in this very house right in front of me!"

"Yes, by your Aunt Bella. You had no control over that, you were just a boy. And the same can be said of you becoming a Death Eater. You had no control…"

"Mother! Would you listen to yourself?" he interrupted. "Granger and I are the same age! And yet she never became a Death Eater or did anything…"

"Circumstances, Son," Narcissa pointed out. "Miss Granger is a Muggle-born and never would have even been considered for the role of a Death Eater. Besides that, you were brought up by a Death Eater and lived in a house full of them. Never mind the fact that this was the Dark Lord's base of operations. You had no choice but to do what he asked of you if you wanted to live, wanted your father and me to live. You did what you had to do. And you never killed anyone."

Draco sighed as he followed his mother into his bedroom. She went into his closet and pulled out a set of his nicest robes. "There is a ball," she told him, "at the end of this month to honor the brave that had fallen during the war. One of us has to make an appearance anyway. If you go, you have a chance."

"Mother."

He saw the desperation in her eyes as she shoved the robes into his hands. "Go, Draco," she ordered him. "Turn on your Malfoy charm and go to her. She'll forgive you. Just… show her how you have changed, how you've become a better person. Give her a reason to fall in love with you and she'll be yours. You can save us, Son. You and her together can save this family and pull us out of these ruins. And who knows? Maybe…" her voice dropped to a whisper as she looked down at the tattered old Slytherin rug on the floor. "Just maybe… The two of you can bring your father home and restore honor to this family."


	2. Chapter 2

He looked at himself in the mirror and brushed his hair off of his forehead. Straightening his dress robes again, Draco had to admit that, regardless of all that had happened the past few years, he still looked good. He gave a small smirk at the mirror. "You can do this, Malfoy," he said to himself.

A single spritz of cologne and he was ready to go. He grimaced momentarily as a sharp pain went up his left arm. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to breathe deeply. The pain wasn't real. It was just a memory. The mark on his arm was no better than one of those tattoos he knew Muggles enjoyed getting.

He was kidding himself. There was no way he could go to this ball. He couldn't face all those people again. He couldn't face her. What would she say to him? Would she even speak to him? What could he possibly say to her to make up for all the things he had done?

"I can't go," he said, opening his eyes and looking into the mirror again.

"You're not doing yourself any favours by wallowing in self-misery," said the soft, feminine voice of his mother from behind him.

He glanced up and could see her in the mirror standing just off to his right. "I'm not 'wallowing in self-misery'," he argued. "I'm being honest. Mother, this is a mistake."

As he turned to face her, she walked up to him and grabbed his chin. For someone so frail, Narcissa had a death grip. She glared up into his eyes. "You listen to me, Draco," she hissed. "You are my son and a Malfoy. You can do this. And you will. Your father is rotting away in that god-forsaken prison for doing what he thought was right by this family. He made a mistake. He believed in the wrong person. You, on the other hand, are getting this family back on track. You will go to the ball. You will win her heart. You are handsome, intelligent, and cunning. You have what it takes to build this family back up."

He sighed. "Last I heard, she was dating the Weasley kid," he told her. "I highly doubt she…"

"No doubts!" she snapped, letting go of his chin to slap him on the cheek. It wasn't a hard slap, but it was enough to surprise him. "I know the kid you speak of. The Weasleys have nothing on the great and proud Malfoy family. Now, finish getting ready so you can go to this ball, turn on that Malfoy charm, and steal her right from under the nose of that pauper!"

Narcissa was so confident of her son's pending victory. As Draco looked down at his mother, he couldn't help but notice the hope that was shining in her eyes. She truly believed the things she was saying. Giving her a soft smile, he could only wish that he had the same hope and belief that she did.

(II)(II)

Draco gave his name to the bouncer and waited. "You may go," the bouncer said as he checked his list and allowed the young man to pass him.

As Draco entered the dance hall, he looked around him. People were laughing, dancing, and chatting with one another. Some sat at little round tables draped with purple and silver table cloths. In the middle was a cleared out area with a disco ball shining light upon the floor. This was where people were dancing. It reminded Draco of old parties he would attend with his friends. Was he dressed too formally?

The young man shook his head. While the décor lacked in formality, the people there were also dressed in formal robes, so it was safe for Draco to assume he was dressed appropriately. His eyes glanced over the various people, seeking out anyone he might deem familiar. None of his former colleagues were present. He wasn't surprised. He almost felt like an idiot and wondered again why he had bothered to show up. His mother. Right.

He needed to find Hermione Granger and convince her to fall in love with him. Once that task was complete, he and Granger could work towards restoring the Malfoy name. But how was he supposed to get her to fall in love with him?

The answer came as his eyes rested upon a red headed couple. They were older and not very wealthy. They wore old robes that he could only assume they had purchased at a pre-owned shop. Though, he hated to admit, they didn't really look all that bad. As poor as the couple was, they stood proud and united. In many ways, they reminded him of his own parents before the Dark Lord returned. The difference, however, was the subtle humbleness that surrounded the older couple.

Draco could see what he had to do quite clearly. If he had any chance with Granger, he would have to gain this couple's trust first. Or at the very least, their acceptance.

He began making his way towards the couple when a large hand suddenly clapped onto his shoulder. Spooked, the young man swiveled around to glare at his attacker. His fears died instantly as he came face to face with a large black man. The man wore deep blue robes.

"Minister Shacklebolt," Draco greeted, giving the black man a nod of his head.

Shacklebolt smiled as he offered Draco his hand to shake. "Draco Malfoy. I didn't think you would show up. When I received your rsvp, I was rather surprised," the man returned.

Draco accepted the man's hand and shook it. He tried not to think about how much bigger and stronger this man was. Instead, he gave the older man a smile. "Yes, well, I know it has been a while, but I felt as though it was time I stepped back into the world," he said. "One can only hide in their manor for so long before money and food run out. It is something my mother has yet to learn."

Shacklebolt chuckled. "Yes. And it seems she is not the only one. Many families of former Death Eaters remain sequestered in their homes."

Draco did not find the humour in that and frowned. "Yes, well, perhaps if they weren't so frightened of being arrested…"

The older man raised an eyebrow and nodded gravely. He released the young man's hand and patted Draco's arm. "I understand their fears, Mr. Malfoy," he told the boy. "It will take years for us to rebuild the damage caused by Voldemort and his followers."

"Not all those who lived with Death Eaters were Death Eaters themselves," Draco pointed out. "Some had little to no choice in the matter."

"We all have a choice," the minister said.

The younger man's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes narrowed. Lips pinched, he commented, "You don't understand the kind of power the Dark Lord held. The only other choice we had was to die. That wouldn't be so bad if it is just a wife or a husband, but many Death Eaters had full families. Children, grandchildren, and parents. To sacrifice oneself is one thing, but to sacrifice one's entire family?"

Shacklebolt swept his arm at the many people in the room. "Look around you, Master Malfoy," he said. "Everyone here gave those sacrifices. We have all lost family members and friends to Voldemort and his minions."

"And of all of you, not a single person here had a family member who served him," Draco observed. "Those 'minions' were only doing what you do, Shacklebolt. They were doing what they thought was right for their families. And once you are branded, there is no turning back. The Dark Lord doesn't just own you. He owns your entire family. And if you step out of line or he catches you in the act of treason, it is not you who suffers the penalty. You are not the only one who gets sacrificed. He will destroy every person you hold dear. Your children, your parents, your siblings. He will even kill your aunts and uncles. By the time he is finished, you will be the only member of your family left. Only then will he kill you. And he doesn't just kill them, Shacklebolt. He makes you watch as each of your family members are tortured and raped."

The minister said nothing as he looked at Draco in horror. The boy's eyes were narrowed as he sneered. "Sacrifice? These people here know little of sacrifice. What the Dark Lord did to them was merciful compared to what he did to his own followers. My father would have taken death upon himself if it had meant that my mother and I didn't have to suffer. Hell, I would have died if I had known for certain that the Dark Lord wouldn't have gone after my parents. But the Dark Lord was cunning. He lived to tell the lie that they would be safe if only you would do this or that. The moment you did it, however, he requested more of you. And he kept demanding more, no matter how much you did. We weren't free. And we didn't get any choices. We did what we had to do."

Shacklebolt was silent for a very long time. Draco knew the minister had been caught up in the black and white fairytale that the world was made up of Death Eaters and good people. Most were. No one bothered to think of how the Death Eaters' families had been affected. They were victims, too.

Draco glanced at the table the older red headed couple was sitting at. He had no way of knowing what they were whispering about, but he could tell by the look on her face, that the woman had wanted to get up. He needed to speak to the both of them before they left.

"Excuse me, Minister," Draco said politely as he left Shacklebolt and walked to the older couple.

Both stared at him as he approached. Once he felt he was close enough, he stopped and gave them a full bow, bending himself at the waist and glancing at the ground. "Mister and Mrs Weasley," he greeted. "I know it is late, but I wanted to offer you both my condolences on the loss of your son."

He straightened up and saw them both staring at him. Neither Weasley said anything, so he took the opportunity to continue. "I would also like to apologize for any and all grievances I may have caused to your youngest children, especially to Ronald while he was in my home."

Mister Weasley held out a hand to stop the boy from speaking any more. "There is no need to apologize, Draco," he told the young man. "What happened in your home was not your fault. Nor did you have any control of it."

Mrs Weasley smiled. "Would you come sit with us, Draco?" she offered, pushing back the seat next to her.

The young man gave a gracious smile as he accepted the seat. Sitting down he unconsciously tugged at his left sleeve. "Thank you, ma'am," he said.

Her eyes were watery and he could tell that she had been crying. Draco took care not to point this fact out to either of the Weasleys and instead sat patiently while Mrs Weasley piped, "It is so good to see you, young Draco. Arthur and I didn't think you would come to one of these gatherings."

Draco gave a pained smile. "Yes, well, I had debated the idea myself," he admitted. "In all honesty, it was my mother who encouraged me to come."

"And how is your mother?" the woman asked.

The young man looked at her for a moment, trying to determine if she was genuinely asking or just making polite conversation. Deciding it was the former rather than the latter, he answered truthfully, "Some days are better than most. She misses my father terribly, but she knows what he had done had been wrong."

"How long was he sentenced for?" Mrs Weasley questioned.

Draco sighed. "Twenty years," he told her.

A pained expression crossed the matriarch's face as she placed a condoling hand upon the young man's forearm. "I am sorry, Draco," she said to him. She looked to her husband. "It really is a shame, Arthur, what these poor young folk have to go through."

Mister Weasley nodded, though he did not look quite as forgiving as his wife. "It is a shame," he agreed. "But know this, Mr. Malfoy: It is your father, not you or your mother, who is at fault for his crimes. He is the one making the payment."

Draco held back his nasty retort. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He knew if he had any chance with Granger, he would have to play nice with these people. He slowly began to understand why his father loathed them so much.

As he opened his mouth to change the subject, a certain black haired young man took that moment to make an appearance. Harry Potter looked cleaner than the last time Draco had seen him. Though his hair was just as messy, his robes were well made and Draco immediately recognized the Italian cloth. On Potter's arm was the youngest Weasley. She looked stunning in robes that matched Potter's. Her long red hair was pulled up in a fabulous design that, again, Draco recognized to come from a premiere beauty shop in Hogsmeade. The couple looked stunning.

As was customary, Draco stood as the couple approached. He met his former rival's eyes and held back his retort. If he wanted to gain Granger, he would have to be cordial.

"Malfoy," Potter greeted, confused. The ginger on his arm also looked at the former Slytherin, her eyes widened in surprise.

Draco bowed his head slightly. "Potter," he returned the greeting. "It has been a while."

"Fortunately," the ginger whispered, not realizing that Draco could hear her.

He had shot a glance at her, but did not respond to her jibe. He could sense the sudden tension in the air and knew he was overstaying his welcome. He had hoped he would see Granger before things became too awkward, but now he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"It has been a while," Potter agreed. "I'm surprised you came, Malfoy. Didn't think you were up for these kinds of parties."

Draco gave his customary smirk as he shrugged. "I can't hide in my hovel forever. I was hoping I could talk Minister Shacklebolt into some sort of job."

The red haired girl snorted. "Fat chance of that happening, Malfoy," she snubbed. "You'd be better off trying to get a job at Flourish and Blotts or perhaps Quality Quidditch Supplies. I wouldn't try getting a job anywhere that serves food, though. Somehow I doubt anyone would want to eat anything you give them."

"Ginevra!" Mrs Weasley reprimanded.

The girl did not look contrite as she spat. "What? He doesn't deserve anything…"

"Ginny, that is the very prejudice we just fought this war over!" Potter argued, pulling away from the girl. "Don't stoop to that level, or you are no better than him."

"But, Harry…"

Potter looked at Draco and the former Slytherin could see the gravity in the former Gryffindor's face. This man wasn't Draco's former school rival. He was someone entirely different. He had seen things Draco could only begin to imagine. If there was anyone on his side in this building, it was Potter.

"Look. I'm not trying to start any trouble," Draco said as he looked at the young couple. "All I wanted was to give my condolences to your family. They've been given, so if you will all excuse me, I shall leave all of you be."

He gave another polite bow and offered Mrs. Weasley a small smile before turning back to the rest of the ball. The family watched him leave with varying levels of confusion on their faces. He didn't bother to look back at them. Baby steps, he thought to himself. He offered the olive branch, now it was up to them whether or not they would accept it.

He took out his time piece and inwardly groaned. He had only been there for half an hour and he still hadn't spotted Granger. At this point, he secretly wondered if she had even attended the ball. Certainly she would have made her appearance known by now.

And then… There she was. Standing against the counter of the bar, nursing some cocktail in her delicate hand. She wore the richest of red velvet robes with golden lining and a plunging neckline. Draco felt himself freeze for a moment as he simply stared at her. She was more beautiful than he had remembered. Gulping down the saliva that had suddenly entered his mouth, he closed his eyes and steeled his features. It wouldn't do to approach the lioness while looking nervous.

Taking a deep breath, he opted to approach the bar casually, glancing around for a tender. He stepped next to the Muggle-born, pretending not to notice her as his eyes rested upon the bartender. He lifted a hand to flag the man down and oh, so, casually glanced about. He feigned surprise upon seeing the witch in red.

"Granger," he remarked coolly, with a nod of his head.

Her honey coloured eyes merely glanced at him. She said nothing to him as she took another sip of her red cocktail. She turned her attention back to the dancers and his eyes followed hers. He watched for a moment before the bartender came up to them. Draco quickly asked for a Firewhiskey, though his eyes remained transfixed upon the dancers. While he and the Muggle-born continued to watch, he chanced a glance at Granger.

"Seems everyone here is enjoying themselves," he commented, trying to start some form of conversation with the beautiful witch.

"Clearly," Granger finally said, grimacing slightly before draining the rest of her drink, "you haven't been looking closely enough if you think everyone is _enjoying_ themselves." Finally, she looked at him and he allowed himself to return her gaze, looking into her honey eyes. "Are you enjoying yourself, Malfoy?"

He sniffed, taking the glass the bartender handed him. "Not particularly," he admitted with a shrug. "Honestly, I haven't enjoyed a dance for years now."

She said nothing to that, turning her attention back to the tender to order herself another cosmopolitan. Draco silently took note of her drink and inwardly smiled to himself.

"I'm actually surprised to see you here, Malfoy," Granger said as she waited for her drink. "Word has it that since your father has been away, you and your mother have sequestered yourselves in that manor of yours. Didn't think we'd ever see you again."

Draco smirked. "Missed me?"

The Gryffindor rolled her eyes. "Hardly," she sniffed. "One could only hope and be grateful for small favours."

He frowned at that and pushed some hair out of his eyes to tuck behind his ear. He nodded gravely. "Yes, I can only imagine. Although, we are not dead, so, surely you had to assume that we would come out of hiding at some point."

"Don't all snakes?" she asked as the bartender handed her the new drink.

He nodded, more to himself than to her. "Yes, well, thank God the right side won, yes? Long live Dumbledore and Harry Potter," he commented, taking another pull of is firewhiskey.

"Is that sarcasm?" she hissed, glaring at him.

He bit back a laugh and shook his head. "No. This beats the alternative, don't you think?"

"You were part of that alternative," she pointed out, lightly swirling her drink.

He frowned again and lifted his shoulders just a bit. Sighing, he agreed, "I was born to be part of that alternative. It's what I had known my entire life and I almost succumbed to the temptation."

"Almost?" she questioned, then she nodded as her eyes widened in memory. "Oh, yes, in the end, you couldn't do it, could you? You couldn't kill Dumbledore. You couldn't kill anyone. In fact, you didn't fight at all. You just… looked for your parents, hoping to find them and find a way out."

He stared at her, a single blond eyebrow raising as he couldn't quite believe how much she had known. But then… "Potter told you, didn't he?"

She gave him a small nod and glanced back at the dancers. "He told us all, and a good thing he did, too, otherwise a fate worse than a 20 year prison sentence would have awaited your father. Never mind what would have happened to you for your attempted murder or your mother for her housing of Death Eaters."

His frown deepened as he turned his attention back to the dance floor. He wanted to lash out at her. To make her take back her words, but he bit his tongue. How his mother expected him to woo the little hussy, he had no idea. He closed his eyes again, allowing her words to pass unchallenged. Swallowing the saliva in his mouth, he raised his glass to his lips and took another drink. Licking his lips, he placed the half full glass onto the counter and looked back at her.

He watched her for a moment as she watched the dancers. There was almost a sort of longing in her eyes as she gazed at the couples. Wrinkling his nose, Draco licked his lips again and glanced at the dancers himself. "So… Where's Weasley?" he asked innocently.

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "What business is it of yours?" she hissed.

He held his hands up in surrender and leaned back from her a bit. "It was just a question, Granger," he defended. "All this dancing, I would have thought he'd taken you for a turn or two about the room."

"Who's to say he hasn't?" she snapped, still glaring at him.

He shrugged. "How am I to know? That's why I asked. We've been standing here for a near half an hour or so. He's yet to collect you, so… it made me curious."

She turned back to the dancers, taking another sip of her drink. "Not that it concerns you, but Ron doesn't dance," she said angrily.

He nodded. He honestly didn't find that hard to believe. Paupers, the lot of the ginger family. More than likely, none of them had even ever seen a dance floor before the Yule Ball. While he had seen the Weaselette dancing with Potter, he was almost certain she was most likely the only one of the bunch to ever even try.

"Still. He should dance with you," he commented more to himself than to her.

"Why?"

Surprised that she had heard him, he glanced at the Muggle-born. For a moment, he simply looked at her. Memories of the War and of their time within Hogwarts flooded his mind, and yet… she hadn't really changed much. Sure there were probably underlining changes, but overall? She was still the dazzling beauty who had caught his attention so many years ago.

When had he fallen? Their fourth year? His mind wanted to say so, but he had a feeling it had been longer. Sure, at first he had been jealous of her. Some random Muggle-born witch who had beaten him at every subject? He must have spent every free moment he had bitching and complaining about her top marks during their early years.

His eyes met hers and his lips pinched together for the moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he explained, "You are still the most beautiful witch at the dance." He waved his hand at the dancers. "Any bloke should be more than happy to have you upon their arm. Seeing you standing here, alone…" He shook his head. "You deserve to dance."

She turned away from him again. He could see the water collecting in her eyes, though she did not shed a single tear. "What if I don't want to dance?"

He stood up straight and stepped closer to her. Holding out his hand, he said, "Something tells me that you do. Come on, Granger. Dance with me under the stars? For old time's sake."

She stared at his hand, no doubt mulling over the idea. Certainly she remembered their dance, though this time it would be quite a bit more public. "You want to dance with a filthy mudblood?" she asked, glancing up into his eyes.

"I want to dance with the most beautiful girl at the ball," he replied, keeping his hand out to her.

She set her glass down on the bar behind her and delicately placed her hand into his. "Alright, but just one dance."


	3. Chapter 3

He led her out onto the dance floor and pulled her into a slow, steady dance. In the back of his mind, Draco couldn't believe his luck. While he hated to admit that his mother had been right, he was astounded by how easy this evening was going. Perhaps before the night was over, he would be able to catch a kiss? Maybe even a date?

He glanced down at the witch in his arms and smiled as she looked back up at him. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you find so funny?" she questioned. "You're not planning to have a go at me later on, are you?"

Both of his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Have a go at you?" he nearly stammered. The blond boy shook his head. "Merlin's beard, Granger! If I wanted to have a go at you, I wouldn't ask to dance with you." His face softened once more into a smile. "I'm just glad you agreed to dance with me."

She continued to eye him for a moment as they made their way around the dance floor. He turned her, letting her move away from him before pulling her back closer to him. "So," he said as the song changed to another. Thankfully, the pace of the song was still slow and, apparently, Granger hadn't noticed, "how have you been? I know you and Weasel are dating, but surely that isn't all your life has come to?"

"What do you care how my life has become?" she asked as he turned her again.

He shrugged slightly. "I haven't seen you since my father's trail, honestly, and I've been curious."

"Well, if you had deigned to return to school, you would have known," she pointed out, giving him a hard look. "Professor McGonagall had allowed those who wished it to return and complete our studies. And, well, when we weren't learning, we were helping to put the school back in order."

He nodded and pulled her close again. "I had no desire to return to that school. Too many memories."

"Too many mistakes," she corrected, giving him a smug look.

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. "Yes," he growled, "that and I finished all my classes. Defense Against the Dark Arts had been rubbish my final year, but that had been expected. The rest of the classes when by fine and I managed to score well on my N.E.W.T.s, despite the travesties that had occurred. I didn't feel there was a need to return to that god awful place. Besides, didn't the school receive the donations my family and I had made towards the rebuild?"

"I forgot. As a pureblood, you were able to return what was to be all of our 7th year. Blaise had told me of it, though he also said he had had a hard time focusing during that year," she said as she let him guide her into another twirl.

He sniffed. "Zabini? I wasn't aware he had returned. Though, that doesn't surprise me. No doubt since I wasn't there, he made Head Boy."

"Actually," she interrupted, looking a little sad. "Because of how the previous year had gone, no one from our class had been allowed to be either Head Boy or Head Girl. For one, there simply wasn't enough of us that had returned. Also, it would have been unfair to those who were a grade below us. And you? What makes you think you would have been Head Boy?"

He offered her a small smirk. "Because I was," he told her with a shrug. "There had been some debate over allowing it because of how I had botched the Dark Lord's plans, but Snape wanted it. Said I deserved it with my grades. Not sure how he managed to convince the Dark Lord to allow it, but I had no complaints. There was some lament that you weren't able to be Head Girl, though. Course, I think it was more mockery than actual grief."

"Mockery?!" she spat. "I made better scores than you, Malfoy! I spent more time in the library than anyone else in that school. In fact…"

He held a hand up in surrender to cut her off. "I know, Granger," he said, maintaining his calmness. "I did not say _I_ mocked you. Most of the time, I just kept my mouth shut. I was grateful to be given the position I had been given and I wasn't about to argue with anyone over what should have been."

"Of course you wouldn't," she continued. "I heard that after the stint you pulled on the Astronomy Tower, Voldemort barely gave your family the time of day. And he took your father's wand."

His eyes hardened again. "Watch it, Granger," he warned softly. "What happened that night and the time that hypocritical bastard stayed in my home is in the past. You _don't _know everything, therefore it would be wise to keep your trap shut. The Malfoy name had been cleared and since then, we've donated more to charity than any other wizarding family in all of Britain. And we continue to pay our dues without any hesitation."

"Only because you have no choice," she jabbed.

Perhaps his mother hadn't been right after all, he thought to himself. With his hands on Granger's waist, it would be so easy to slip his hands around her skinny little neck and just squeeze. Weaselbreath wasn't around, so the Slytherin did not really fear repercussions, at least not until the rest of the party goers began to take notice. Then again, he could almost hear his mother's words of reprimand if he harmed the little Mudblood. He needed to find a quick change of topic before he decided to carry out his diabolical scheme of putting a ring around Granger's throat.

"So, how is Zabini? Or do you speak to him now that school is complete?" he asked, hoping she'd pick up his change of topic and go with it.

Thankfully she did. "I wouldn't really know," she said honestly. "Blaise and I were never really friends, though of the Slytherins, I would say I got on with him better than the others. Well, him and Theo."

"Nott?" he questioned in disbelief as he led her through a fast foxtrot. "I didn't think he would ever have it in him to even speak with a Mud… Muggleborn," he quickly corrected, his eyes snapping to her as he hoped she didn't catch his flub. She had, but she didn't comment on it. He licked his lips.

She raised a single eyebrow. "Yes, well, it was a bit difficult not to speak with them when you saw them every morning and evening in the Common Room," she told him. At his further surprise, she decided to elaborate, "There were so few of us that had returned and there really wasn't enough space in our Houses for us and the new arrivals. Professor McGonagall had sectioned off a separate part of the castle to house the '8th years'. It did not really matter our House, all of us, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and the Slytherins shared a Common Room together. The girls had one dorm and the boys had the other. It was a bit awkward at times, but overall, we managed to get along the best we could. I think the main focus was for us to study and pass our N.E.W.T.s more than anything."

"Who returned from Gryffindor?" he asked, trying to hold down his bile.

Granger shrugged. "Along with myself? Neville was there, as was Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnigan also returned, though he didn't stay too long, ended up dropping out. I was the only girl of the Gryffindors."

He immediately noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. Like she had done when she mentioned the Dark Lord in his ancestral home, Draco knew he had hit a sore spot with her. He suddenly found himself at a loss for words as he didn't quite know how to comfort her, or even if she would be receptive of such a thing.

They remained quiet for a while, as Draco moved her through the rest of the foxtrot and fluidly changed into a waltz. He nearly growled. "Don't these people know how to play something else?" he found himself saying in irritation.

Granger giggled, catching him off guard. She pressed a few dainty fingers to her lips. "Perhaps they want to make sure we can keep up?" she suggested.

He felt the tension between them levitate some and he rolled his eyes before casting her a rather sardonic smile. "Yes, well, they must be wanting to ensure the other dancers can keep up. I had the best dance teachers as a child and can perform any dance," he chimed rather arrogantly.

"Oh really?" she challenged. "I bet I know a few dances you cannot do, or at the very least wouldn't consent to do with a Muggleborn."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Try me," he dared.

She stopped their dance and pulled him to the side. "Wait here," she told him as she slipped out of his hands.

At first, he took a step to follow her before he realized she was moving towards the band. He watched in amazement as she seemed to whisper something into the conductor's ear before she made her way back to him. He wasn't sure what to make of seeing her purposely walk towards him and silently prayed no one would try to ruin it.

Her smile was dazzling as she approached him. "I spoke to the conductor," she told him. He nodded, having seen this as she continued, "They'll be playing a salsa dance next. You do salsa, correct?"

His smirk turned mischievous as he stepped closer to her and slipped his hands around her waist. "I also know how to tango," he whispered into her ear.

He felt her hand rest on his shoulder as he pulled her back onto the dance floor to finish their waltz. The pit of his stomach was in knots as they continued to dance. As the waltz died away, Draco and Granger met one another's eyes with similar impish, exciting looks. The moment the next song began, their dance began.

(II)(II)

Draco raised the two glasses from the bar and handed one of them to the witch. They smiled at one another as she lifted the glass she had been given to her lips and took a sip. Draco's smile widened as he watched her close her eyes and seem to savor the flavor.

"So, now that school is finished, what…" he straightened his throat. "What do you intend to do with yourself?"

She looked at him curiously, as though trying to figure him out, or trying to figure out how to answer him. He wasn't certain, but he kept his own expression cool and genuinely curious. After all, if his mother had anything to say about it, this was to be his future wife and it would do well for him to know her ambitions.

She licked her lips and leaned against the counter as she tilted her head in a clear "thinking" manner. "Well, if I were in the Muggle World, I suppose I would attend university. Perhaps gain some sort of doctorate in whatever profession," she said contemplatively. "Though since I've not the inclination to even attempt such a lifestyle, I suppose I'll apprentice with someone."

He raised his eyebrows a bit at that. "Any idea what you wish to study?" he asked, his mind quickly going over possible branches she could go into. Honestly, the woman had been an outright genius in Hogwarts. No doubt she could become anything she wanted to.

Her eyes gazed away from him and he followed the trail of her eyesight. He became confused as he realized she was watching a house elf carry a tray of drinks. He turned his attention back to her to see that her eyes continued to follow the little elf as it weaved through the various party goers.

"I'm not entirely sure," she whispered carefully. She gave a small sigh. Prying her eyes from the house elf to look at the Slytherin, she gave a small huff. "Actually, I was thinking of continuing a project I had started during our second year. Now that I'm older, focusing on my research should be easier. I'm sure I can get a job in the Ministry with the Department of Magical Creatures."

He blinked at that as his brows furrowed further. "The Department of Magical Creatures?" he questioned. He thought for a moment. "Are you still on about that hippogriff?"

She made a disgusted face as she took another sip of her drink. "Leave it to you to think of that of all things. That happened in our third year, in case your mind has become cloudy with dates," she snapped. "Though, now that I think about it, working for better rights for our magical beasts wouldn't be remiss. No. I was thinking more about house elves. In particular, honoring Dobby."

It was his turn to make a face. "Dobby? My father's old elf? What's he to do…"

"Everything!" she hissed, placing her glass upon the bar behind her. "House elves, and all magical creatures, deserve to be treated fairly and as equals. Honestly, it's so difficult for any magical being to gain fair employment or equal pay or rights."

"House elves don't care about pay or rights," he argued. "They're more than happy to serve, it's what they live for." He saw her flare up, but he cut her off, "I remember the project you speak of, Granger. I saw the buttons you had made. Spew? Or something of that nature? I also know you tried to free several of the Hogwarts house elves, as if they'd want it. Dobby was an oddity among house elves and any house elf given a parcel of clothing would be distraught."

"Perhaps he wouldn't have been an oddity if your father had taken better care of him," she retorted. "I never saw any of it myself, but Harry saw more than enough. Besides…"

"Yes. Go by what Saint Potter says because he never utters a single biased syllable," he snarled, putting his own glass on the counter. "Neither of you know what went on in my home, yet you're quick to judge."

Perhaps he was going too far, but he didn't care. He was tired of the constant criticism of his family. "Just so you know, Dobby had been a problem since the day he was born. He never was a proper house elf, always wanting something. Always asking for something. My father was nearly at his wits' end with the little bastard."

"He wasn't a bastard!" she argued. "He was a good elf. He saved our lives more than once, and he never asked for anything in return. He deserved to be treated better, like a person, an individual."

"Oh, he was treated like an individual alright. Father made sure he received everything he deserved," he spat.

She took a step back, indignant. "How dare you!" she screeched.

"So, you intend to free all the house elves, then?" he questioned.

She glared at him. "I intend to make sure the house elves get the proper care and treatment they need. They will _not_ be bullied or abused by the likes of anyone, including 'ancient pureblood families'."

"Oh cry me a river, Granger," he jeered. "Think of who you're speaking of for a moment there! I had known that bloody creature since I was an infant. We'd even played together."

"More like you taunted him," she interrupted. "And when you were finished, your father…" Her words faltered as he stepped closer to her.

He knew his anger reflected in his eyes. His entire body was tense and he wanted nothing more than to choke her where she stood. "Finish that sentence," he growled lowly. "I dare you."

She shoved him away from her. "You can't intimidate me, Malfoy," she yelled. "I'm not afraid of a cowardly ferret such as yourself."

All he had to do was reach up, wrap his fingers around that scrawny little neck of her and give it a quick twist. It wouldn't take much, and he silently wagered he could do it quicker than anyone would notice. "Did my aunt manage to kill the little prick? Last I saw, she had thrown a dagger at him. Did she make contact?"

The little Mudblood was quick, he'd give her that, but he was faster. He caught her wrist midair and squeezed it. His eyes became glacial as they narrowed. Lifting his other hand, he held up a single finger. "One shot, witch," he warned. "You only get one."

She lifted her other hand, but he caught that one, too, and forced them to her sides. "Let go of me, Malfoy!" she screamed as she struggled against him.

He practically threw her away from him and she fell against Potter. Great! That was just what he needed.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?!" the be-speckled boy demanded, taking his wand out and pointing it at Draco.

Could this night get any worse? "We were merely having a difference of opinion, Potter," Draco said, trying to calm his nerves. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

Potter's eyes narrowed as he glared at the Slytherin. "Somehow I doubt that," he spat. Holding Granger, the Boy Who Lived, looked down at his friend. "Are you alright, Hermione?"

She nodded as she straightened up. "It's as he said, Harry," she confirmed. "We were merely having a disagreement and…" She looked to be fighting with her words for a moment before she continued, "We both took it a bit too far. It was…" She stood up straight and looked at Draco. "A mistake. That's all."

A part of Draco was actually surprised she had actually agreed with him. Though he couldn't help but wonder what it was, exactly, that had been a mistake. Though the outward appearance suggested their petty argument over nonsensical things like house elf rights, Draco was a Slytherin and, naturally, looked deeper into the words spoken. Was she speaking of their dance? He said nothing, folding his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the bar.

Potter looked at Granger, as if trying to discern if she was being completely honest or not. Did they have issues with truthfulness? Draco filed this tidbit of information away for later thought as he stood there with a carefully placed look of disinterest.

"All right," Potter relented as he lowered his wand. He looked back at Draco. "If you've had your fill of dancing with her, I'd like to take her back to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They'll be leaving soon and wished to give Hermione a good night."

Draco waved a hand of indifference. "That's fine, Potter. I wasn't aware anyone needed my permission to take the tart anywhere, but I care not. This party bores me anyway and I was getting ready to take my own leave."

Both Gryffindors looked at him in surprise, as though unable to decide what to make of his words. Unable to take their looks of shock and suspicion anymore, Draco gave Potter a short bow before stepping up to Granger. She flinched, but did not back away from him. With a slight smirk, he took her hand into his and brought it up to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand lightly, staring into her eyes as he did so. "It's been a pleasure, Granger," he purred. "Perhaps we should do this again sometime? Minus, of course, the disagreements."

She stared at him for a moment before her lips turned upward into a grin. "Oh, Malfoy, I believe any sort of meeting with you would end in disagreement," she murmured.

"Then I look forward to it," he said, standing up straight. "Speaking with you, even if it's in disagreement, is quite invigorating, I've found. I do hope you both have a lovely evening."

With that, he released her hand, turned on his heel, and did his best not to stalk out. As he lifted his wand to Disapparate, Draco couldn't help but feel an intense desire to throttle something.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I originally had a different chapter planned for this, but I reread what I had written and didn't like it. So, I decided to change it to something better. What do ya think?


	4. Chapter 4

Draco threw himself into one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Closing his eyes, he snapped, "Maisey!"

A small house-elf appeared at his call. She wore a dull white pillow case and had huge green eyes. "Yes, Master Draco?" she said timidly, her voice portraying her youth.

He did not open his eyes as he continued, "There's are several bottles of Firewhiskey in the cellar, dating late 1800s. Bring me one that hasn't been opened with a clean decanter and some glasses. I don't care which of the bottles you bring, just try not to drop it this time? My father's study still reeks from the last one you dropped."

"Yes, sir, Master Draco, sir," she said. "Maisey will iron her hands again for that, sir."

He waved a dismissive hand and with a loud pop, she was gone. Moments later, she had returned, placing the items he had requested upon a small table next to the chair he lay across. She was gone an instant later, though Draco hadn't moved.

With a grunt, he sat up and turned his attention to the bottle. Popping the cork, he filled the decanter up with the liquid before replacing the cork. After pouring a healthy amount of Firewhiskey into one of the glasses, he set the decanter aside and took a deep pull from his glass, nearly emptying the entire glass in one drink. He refilled his glass as nursed his drink while staring into the flames of the fireplace.

Four hours. It had only taken him moments to find the girl. He'd even made nice with the Weasleys and Potter before he found her. Everything had been going so well. His eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what had went wrong.

The sound of the door opening signaled his mother's entry and he stifled a moan. He knew this conversation was coming. Glancing at the woman, he nearly cringed at the sight of her happy face. She practically danced to the armchair next to him.

"So, darling, tell Mummy all about it," she gushed. She clapped her hands together. "Did you sweep her off her feet? Was she as beautiful as you remember?"

"No, Mum," he answered before taking another pull of his drink. He sighed as he pressed the glass against his forehead. "She was more beautiful."

Narcissa squealed as she sat back in her chair. She looked at him expectantly. "So, when will she be coming over? You did invite her to dine with us, I presume? After all, it's only customary to introduce your future bride to your mother."

Draco stared at his mother for a moment and watched as her face slowly fell when she finally caught sight of his mood. He hated giving her any sort of bad news, not because he feared her or anything. Narcissa doted on her son more than anything, but he knew that every time he had done something wrong, he was met with something far worse than the stern verbal badgering his father would give him. He hated the disappointment that began to fill her expression.

"What happened?" she asked, her smile gone and her eyes filled with sorrow.

Draco sighed and shrugged, turning his attention back to the flames. "I had her, Mother," he told her. "We danced. We laughed. I can still feel her waist in my hands. I… We were dancing and I had pulled her close, ready to kiss those lips that I knew were begging to be kissed."

Narcissa sat up. "So, why didn't you kiss her?" she questioned, her brows furrowing.

He raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to, Mum," he answered. He held up a hand to show his thumb and forefinger to indicate a very short distance. "I was this close!" He huffed as he threw himself back against the chair. "Then she went on about equal rights and house elf liberation! She started in on our family when Potter approached us. Depraved sods the lot of them. How am I supposed to win her when she won't even give me a chance?"

"Where was Mr. Weasley?"

He shrugged. "Hell if I know. He wasn't there. When I asked Granger, she wouldn't tell me. Just went off about how he hated dancing and had other, more important things to do."

Narcissa nodded. "Don't you see, Draco? You couldn't have asked for a more perfect situation. While the pauper is busy concerning himself with things that are _more important_," she emphasized the two words with sarcasm, "than Miss Granger, you can show her just how important she really is. Be there for her. Listen to what she has to say and take a genuine interest in the things that she feels are valuable."

"She's working on house-elf rights," he told her with a groan.

She frowned at that and raised an eyebrow. "Well, you won't get many points if you have poor Maisey iron her hands at every turn," she pointed out.

"I didn't tell her to iron her hands!" he protested

He could tell his mother was thinking and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. "Did anything else happen during the ball?" she asked. "You said Potter was there?"

He nodded. "I even tried to be nice to Potter. The other Weasels were there, too. I managed to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and even sat at their table for a few while I was looking for Granger. Figured she'd come to their table, but when she didn't, I made an excuse to leave."

"What did you say to them?" she questioned.

His shoulders lifted slightly as he took another sip of his Firewhiskey. Grimacing, he said, "I apologized to them about things that had happened in the past. Mrs. Weasley seemed to take some form of pity on me. My thoughts were to make nice with them. Get on their good side."

She smirked. "Yes. That would make getting closer to Miss Granger much easier, but be careful, Draco. Paupers have a tendency of causing people to sympathize with them. Soon, you'll be giving them money in the hopes of helping them out. But Arthur and Molly made their own choices in life. Remember that. They chose to have so many children without being able to properly fund them. Arthur's a smart man and could have easily climbed the Ministry ladder, but he refused. That was his decision and his family paid for it."

The young man found that he couldn't argue with his mother's logic. It had been the same thing his father had told him when he was younger. Of course, his father had told him many things that ended up not being true, but Lucius had never intentionally lied to his son and Draco did not believe either of his parents were lying to him about the Weasleys.

"I just don't know what to do, Mother," he told her as he poured himself another drink. "Granger is dating Weaselbee. From what I could tell, she's quite adamant about it, too. She danced with me, yes, but the moment I tried to take it further, she retaliated."

"Stop drinking that stuff, it'll make you sick," his mother scolded as he downed half of his glass in one go. She sighed. "You have to be more suave, Draco. You're a former Death Eater, so you can't expect for her to just crawl into your lap at the first opportunity. You need to take your time. Properly woo her. But don't take too much time. I would like to see my grandchildren before I get too old."

He made a face. "What will Father say about all of this? My mother setting me up with a Mudblood in hopes that I'll produce Half-Blood children?"

"Draco Lucius, you watch your tongue!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I never want to hear you speak so disrespectfully of your wife _ever_ again. Do you understand me? As for your father, there isn't much he can say on the situation, now is there? Because of his actions, our family name has been put to shame. You are doing what you must to ensure our family's future! Half-Bloods aren't so bad, not if you pair them with Purebloods. And Hermione was the smartest witch in school, was she not? She's beautiful, intelligent, and if the stories are correct, quite witty. She'll be a wonderful addition to our family and will only make our bloodline stronger. If your father has any sense, which I assure you he does, he'll see the benefit of adding this particular Muggle-born to our family."

"But she is a Muggle-born, Mother," he pointed out, though there was little fight left in him. Between the Firewhiskey and his mother's badgering, he just couldn't continue to refuse her. "And she's not my wife. She isn't even my girlfriend."

"Yet," she corrected with a single finger in the air. "But you do your part, charm her, and you'll have her eating out of your palm before you know it. Never mind her blood status. Just focus on what you can do to make her happy."

He gave a frustrated sigh as he let the matter drop for the time being. There was little point in arguing and he was sloshed. Leaning back against the chair, he stared into the fire, allowing the dancing flames to lull him to sleep.

(II)(II)

Draco read through the documents again. "Maisey!" he called as he shuffled through the papers.

The little house elf appeared and bowed low to Draco. "Master Draco called for me?" she asked, her voice cracked.

The wizard stopped what he was doing and looked at the small elf. His eyes wandered over her tattered tea towel that she used as clothing and her bare, dirty toes. If Granger were staying within the walls of the Manor, she would have a fit at the state Maisey was in and Draco knew it. The scrawny little elf looked malnourished the way her skin seemed to sag off her bones.

"Maisey, I want you to take better care of yourself," he told the elf. "Have that towel clean and pressed and keep it clean. Also, eat a bit more, I can see your ribs. What is the state of your bed?"

The elf's wide eyes stared at him in awe. "M-my bed?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You have a bed, I know you do."

She glanced at the door as she fidgeted. He could see he was making her uncomfortable but as she gazed up at him, he pressed her further.

"Maisey's bed is no different from any other house elf's bed," she answered. "It's warm."

"Is it comfortable?" he asked and she nodded.

He sniffed. Draco had no interest in giving her wages or letting her take a day off, like he knew Granger had been wanting. However, his mother was right. He still didn't know how he was going to wrench the Mudblood from her red headed boyfriend, but he knew the house elves were a start.

"I'll be doing much business with the Ministry," he told the little elf, "and at Hogwarts. The Headmistress sent me an owl this morning requesting a donation. I would like to see to it personally that anything she needs done to ensure the school is at its best is done correctly."

The house elf looked at him curiously, obviously wondering what all of that had to do with her, but she was wise enough not to ask. "What would Master Draco like Maisey to do, sir?"

He gave her a soft smile. "I would like you to come with me," he told her as he straightened the papers. "Mother has the other house elves here to help her with the Manor and I would like you to remain close to me in case I need anything."

He could see the amazement and wonder fill the small house elf's eyes as a large teardrop fell from her left eye. "Master Draco would like Maisey to accompany him?"

He barely nodded before he was nearly jumping out of his seat at the loud screeching squeal the small elf made. He had never known such a loud, grating sound could come from something so tiny. Upon seeing his shock, Maisey immediately fell to the floor, her nose pressing onto the ground as she bowed. "Maisey is sorry, Master. Maisey will clip her ears for…"

"No, Maisey," he told her as he stood and straightened his clothing. "You will not punish yourself anymore. You can apologize for your mistakes, but no more hurting yourself for them."

"But, sir…" she started as she looked up at him in wonder.

He shook his head. "I won't have the elf that is with me consistently bringing harm to herself. You are to conduct yourself with the utmost respect. You are a Malfoy house elf, and as such, you represent this Manor and this family. You will not harm yourself and you will look proper. You will respect all, including the Muggle-borns. You will speak when spoken to and if you mess up, you will do what you can to correct your mistake."

Taking a deep breath, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few Sickles. Draco crouched to her height and reached out. Taking Maisey's hand in one of his own, He placed the coins in it. As her eyes widened even further, he said softly, "This isn't much, but it's certainly more than I've given you before. I want you to take this coin and get what you need to clean yourself up."

His eyes met hers and for a moment he thought she was going to have a seizure. He gave her a moment to correct herself.

"Maisey doesn't need this much!" she protested as she tried to hand the coins back to him.

He shook his head as he closed her hand over the money. "Nonsense," he argued. "Do as I say and don't argue with me. As I said, you are a member of this Manor and this family. The Malfoy's have fallen from grace thanks to the mistakes of my father. It is my job to rebuild our standing and we cannot do so if our servants are running around scared and in dilapidated cloth."

"Master Lucius is a great Master," she argued halfheartedly.

His eyes narrowed as he stood. "Lucius nearly destroyed us all, Maisey," he said. "He put me in a precarious position that doesn't allow room for failure."

"He loves you," she pointed out.

Taking a deep breath, Draco sighed and leaned against the desk. "I know he does," he murmured. "And he did everything that he thought was right for our family. My children, when I have them, will never have to work a day in their lives thanks to my father. But while we swim in Galleons, he rots away in a cell in Azkaban."

His grey eyes settled on the small elf. "My mother has this plan to have me woo the Granger girl."

Maisey made a disgusted noise. "That filthy Mudblood?" she questioned with a sneer.

Draco snorted. "That 'filthy Mudblood' will restore the Malfoy name, Maisey. She will be able to get my father out of prison. She will make us strong again and proud. I care not about her blood status."

"Master Draco!" the house elf gasped. "Have you turned traitor?"

He scoffed and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Of course not," he snapped. "This is the best course of action, Maisey. I'll do anything to repair the damage my father has done to the Malfoy name. My mother supports this idea, in fact, it was her idea."

"Master Lucius will not be pleased," she said sadly, shaking her head. "He…"

"He'll get over it," Draco sniffed. "Once that little Mud…" he stopped himself and took a deep breath. This was harder than he thought. "Once Granger joins our family and produces an heir, Father will have to accept her."

She stared at him for a moment more before nodding. "And then the Malfoy name will be restored, sir?"

He shrugged. "That is my hope," he told her honestly. "Mother seems to think that it will. I've never seen her more certain of anything like this." He thought about it and added, "We can't think of the girl as a Mudblood anymore. She may be Muggle born, but her Hogwarts scores and her role in the Second Wizarding War prove that she is more talented than any Pureblood. She'll be a fine edition to this family and will produce intelligent heirs whom are cunning and brave."

"I will do my best to help you, Master Draco," the little elf promised. "For the glory of the Malfoy family."

He gave her a soft smile and patted her on the head. "Indeed. Let us hope this works. Now, clean yourself up and get ready to leave. We have work to do."


	5. Chapter 5

Draco nodded as he signed the parchment and looked at the florist. "Make sure she gets these at noon," he instructed. "It'll be time for her lunch around then and I want her to receive them when I approach her."

The florist, a young, pretty Half-blood, smiled and gave a little giggle. "She really is special to be receiving flowers from you," she commented.

He gave her a smirk, but then looked at her seriously. "She must not know where they came from. Understand? I'll tell her in time, but it will be my time."

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," she agreed. "Your involvement will be seen with the utmost discretion."

He gave her a final smile as he turned on his heel and walked out of the florists with Maisey on his heels. Now that he was finished with that, he touched Maisey's head and, together, they Apparated to Hogsmeade. His first stop was into Honeydukes. "Should I get Chocolate Cauldrons or perhaps some Pumpkin Pasties?" he asked, glancing at Maisey.

She hesitated for a moment. "Is this for Master Draco?" she questioned and he shook his head, giving her a pointed look. Her eyebrows wrinkled. "You did just buy her a bouquet of flowers, sir," she explained. "Don't you think adding sweets would be a bit much?"

"I want it to be a bit much," he told her. "I want her to know that there is someone out there thinking about her and it's not that red headed pauper."

She looked up at him curiously. "Then, may I suggest a box of treacle fudge?" she pressed, letting her green eyes lift up to meet his.

He glanced at her thoughtfully for a moment before standing up straight and raising his head. "Good idea, Maisey," he praised.

"If you want to give someone cavities," chimed a female voice from behind a tall shelf of varying sweets.

Draco nearly choked on his own saliva as Granger peered around the corner. He quickly regained his composure with a lazy smirk. This was good. She would be able to tell him without meaning to, what sort of sweets she would like. "And why would you say that, Granger?"

She walked around the shelf and was carrying a small basket that she had filled with some Chocolate frogs and several boxes of Bertie Botts. "You've probably never had a cavity in your entire life, have you?"

"I don't even know what a cavreetry is," he admitted, his face relaxed in an amused look.

She scoffed. "Of course not," she said as she pushed past him. "I'm sure you go to the Healers consistently to make sure your teeth are cleaned and well cared for."

He frowned. "My teeth? What are you on about?" He briefly had a bizarre thought that something might be in his teeth, and he casually glanced in a mirror to look at his teeth. He didn't see anything, but he did hear Granger giggling. His attention turned back to her. "What?"

She shook her head and turned away from him. "God forbid anyone say one word about your appearance," she laughed.

His frown deepened for a moment as he hurried to catch up with her. "So what is it?" he asked. "Cavreetries? Why would I need a Healer to check my teeth?"

"Cavities," she corrected as she picked up two liquorice wands. "In the Muggle world, there are these doctors called dentists who check people's teeth every six months to make sure there are no cavities. Both of my parents are dentists. It was just a statement. I'm sure you, of all people, probably will never need to see a dentist in your life."

She truly wasn't making any sense to him, and he quickly looked for a change of subject. "So, if you're so opposed to sweets, what are you doing here buying just that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She paused and he could see he had hit a nerve. The more time Draco spent around her, the more confused he became. She turned slightly and her honey colored eyes met his. "How is that any of your concern?" she asked.

When did this conversation turn sour? He looked at her in confusion. "It was just a question, Granger," he said as he picked up a package of Chocolate Cauldrons.

She sighed and lifted her basket, placing it on the counter. "I'm sorry, Malfoy," she said as the cashier began ringing up her treats. "I'm just stressed. Ron is just…" she growled. "Ginny asked me to pick these up for her. George's birthday is coming up soon and she's currently on the continent with the Harpies. She'll be home in time to see her brother, but she won't have time to buy him anything."

He stared at her warily. It was his luck that he had some idea of whom she was talking about. He wasn't really the type to keep up on Gryffindors, especially ginger haired ones, but he did read the _Daily Prophet_, and he remembered seeing the one twin die. Regardless of their Gryffindor pauper status, the Weasley twins were infamous through the halls of Hogwarts. "Her idea is to buy him chocolate?"

She shrugged as she dug money out of her purse to pay the cashier. "She might end up buying something for him on the continent, but I doubt it. If she doesn't, this will be a good back up plan," she said, taking the bag of sweets from the cashier.

As Draco followed her out onto the streets, Granger looked at him curiously. "Where's your bag?"

"What?" he asked, confused.

She indicated his empty hands with a wave of her own hand. "Weren't you in there to buy sweets? Where did they go?"

He shrugged and glanced down at Maisey for a moment before replying, "I just realized that the girl I was going to buy them for doesn't really like sweets," he told the Muggle-born.

She nodded slowly. "That's a shame," she said. "All my talk about sweets and cavities, I do have to admit I have a slight sweet tooth myself. I do enjoy those Sugar Quills. Do you have a favorite?"

He lifted a single eyebrow at that. "Honestly? I prefer Cauldron cakes," he answered. He hesitated for a split second before an idea struck him. She had started walking again and he hurried to catch up with her. "Hey, Granger!" he called to her, causing her to stop and turn to him again. He jogged up next to her and began walking with her. "I have an appointment with McGonagall in about an hour. Fancy a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks to kill some time?"

Her eyes searched his face and he could see she was interested. "Why do you have an appointment with the Headmistress?" she asked.

He shrugged. "That I'm not sure about. I had sent her an owl last week, asking if there was anything more I could do to help out the school. I might have indicated an interest in possibly teaching, but honestly. Aren't all the positions filled by now?"

Granger smiled. "I believe so, but Professor Sprout is currently training Neville in Herbology. Maybe the Headmistress wants to see what subject you would like to teach? I know there is more to being a teacher than simply signing on to the job," she surmised.

"Unless you're applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts," Draco joked. He scrunched his face. "Longbottom wants to be a teacher?"

The Muggle-born's smile was brilliant and Draco found himself suppressing his own smirk. "Neville is amazing when it comes to plants," she told him as they walked towards the Three Broomsticks. "You know that he was the one to suggest gillyweed to Harry during the Triwizard Tournament? It was how he was able to swim under the Black Lake to save Ron. Pretty ingenious."

He frowned. Longbottom was going to be a teacher? Draco suddenly wondered what the world was coming to, then he shrugged. "I don't know what McGonagall wants, but somehow I doubt she'll want me teaching the students. I'm not exactly 'teacher material'," he said as he felt a sharp pain in his left arm. The pain wasn't real, but it was a consistent reminder of who and what he was.

She didn't disagree with his assessment, just shrugged. With a smile, she said, "So, Malfoy, were you planning on introducing me to your house elf? Or are you afraid I'll try to free her?"

Draco was taken aback by the statement as he heard the small elf squeak in fear and bury herself behind him. He glanced down at the elf and took a step away from her. "I told you. You have nothing to worry about," he said to the elf. His eyes met Granger's and his expression hardened. "I won't let her free you. Besides, only your master can give you freedom." He turned his attention back to the little elf and knelt down to her level, placing a hand on her head to quiet her rather loud sobbing. He gave Granger another glare.

Draco really wanted to strangle the Muggle-born. He had planned on introducing them later in the day when he offered to take Granger out for lunch, but it seemed that idea was now busted. Perhaps he should have left Maisey home until he was ready to go to the Ministry to pick Granger up? But then having the little elf with him at all times worked more to his advantage. Not only did he have his servant with him at all times in case he needed something, but on the off chance he ran into Granger, like now, she could see a "softer side" of the Pureblood. It could only work to endear him to her.

He straightened up and fixed his suit, straightening his tie. Placing a reassuring hand on the elf, he held his head up as he looked to the Muggle-born. "Granger, this is my house elf, Maisey. She's been in my family since the day she was born."

Maybe he was imagining it, but Granger had looked guilty when he had consoled the elf. Now her lips pulled upward into a warm smile as she bent down towards the elf. "Hello, Maisey," she greeted kindly as she held her hand out towards her. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Maisey knows," the elf said rather patiently. "Maisey knows all about Hermione Granger. First in her year, brightest witch of her age. Hermione Granger made the most O. and N.E. than any other student. Hermione Granger is a Muggle-born and lives in a rather wealthy section of Muggle Surrey, living on what had belonged originally to her parents." Her large green eyes gazed up at the Muggle-born in awe. "Hermione Granger helped defeat the Dark Lord. Hermione Granger helped save Maisey's family."

For the briefest of moments, both wizard and witch stared at the elf in shock. Then with a nervous chuckle, Draco stepped in front of the elf. "Yes, well," he stammered with a cough. Grey eyes met honey and he threw her a tentative smile. "How about those butterbeers, hm?"

Granger looked from the wizard to the elf and back again. She was clearly embarrassed, though she hid it behind a cautious smile. "I," she hesitated, "I just remembered that I had something I needed to take of. Forgive me, but… raincheck?"

He swallowed. This day couldn't possibly have gotten worse. "Yeah," he said softly. "Uh… What's a raincheck?"

(II)(II)

As Draco stepped onto the grounds of Hogwarts, he momentarily felt as though he was traveling back in time. He could see the old Gamekeeper's hut in the distance and he blinked. It looked a bit new, and he was surprised, until he remembered his aunt having destroyed the hut three years previously.

Other than that, everything else looked the same. The grounds were lush and green, the Black Lake sparkled. He paused when he saw the tree he and Granger had sat under that fateful night. He had just wanted a kiss at the time. A smile played on his lips in memory as he imagined their bodies still dancing under the stars.

"We'll have that again soon," he murmured to himself. He glanced down at the little house elf and chuckled at her expression.

"Come on, Maisey," he laughed as they continued to the castle. He knew she was impressed.

She jogged lightly beside him, her eyes roving over the whole of the grounds. "This is where Master went to school?"

He nodded. "Generations of Malfoy Masters," he told her. "For hundreds of years. Maybe if we have time and the Headmistress allows us, I'll take you to the old dungeons and show you my old room."

His eyes stopped when they landed on an older woman in a old witch's hat walking towards him from the castle. When she approached him, she looked him up and down severely. "Mr. Malfoy," she acknowledged.

She had never been one of his favorite teachers with the way she doted on the Gryffindors, but he remembered being impressed with her skill when he was a boy. She still looked just as stern has she had his first year. She still wore the same long, rigid robes and her hair was pulled back in the same tight bun. It had been two years since he had last seen her, but she looked as though she hadn't aged a day.

His initial reaction upon seeing her, was to give a confident, arrogant smile, but he stopped himself. Keeping his face relaxed, he flashed her a soft smile. There was no love lost between them, he knew. "Professor McGonagall," he returned, offering her a nod of his head. "It's been a while."

"You're right, Mr. Malfoy," she said in a rather flippant way. He could tell she was irritated by him and he frowned. "And soon it will be three years since you last stepped foot on these grounds. There hasn't been enough time to bother with niceties and old memories."

Confusion played through Draco's mind for a moment before he readopted his smirk. She was a clever lion. "Yes, well, walking through these grounds, there are very few old memories that I would like to keep," he told her absently as he followed her into the castle.

As he walked through the halls, more memories flooded his mind, but he ignored them. He had been so focused on what had happened five years ago, it had slipped his mind that the war had occurred merely two years ago. It felt like ages since he had last seen his father. Had it really only been a few months? As they approached the Headmistress's office, he suddenly felt uncomfortable. He frowned for a moment as he pushed past his comfort and plastered another smirk on his face. "So, was there a reason you called me to the school? The last time I had sent you an owl, offering funds, you had simply replied with the amount you needed for a new greenhouse. I can't imagine what could be so important that I would have to return here."

He had never been into the Headmistress's office before, even when he had gone to school here and it had belonged to Dumbledore. He chanced a quick glance at the surroundings. Honestly, he felt as though he was back in school and walking into McGonagall's old office for all the similarities it had. Well, minus the portraits on the walls. For a while, no one said anything as Draco's eyes became fascinated with the different portraits. Headmaster after Headmaster. He paused at one portrait entitled "Phineas Nigellus Black". He had heard the name before, though looking at the portrait, he didn't recognize the man at first, but he did recognize the way the man's frown. Draco blinked. "I didn't know a Black had been Headmaster of Hogwarts," he commented.

"There are many things you do not know, boy," the portrait responded with a sneer.

Draco found he could not really argue with that statement and let it go. He would search the Manor later to see if he could find the other portrait. Perhaps the man would speak to him more about the family later on. He continued his perusal as he made his way to the chair in front of the Headmistress's desk. As his eyes made their way to the two portraits above the desk, he froze. He could literally feel the blood draining from his face as his eyes widened and he took a step back. Tripping, he managed to bang his thigh into the arm of the chair he was supposed to sit in and missed the actual chair completely, falling on his tailbone. He scrambled into his seat, never taking his eyes off the two men.

"Good morning, Draco," said the man with a long grey beard merrily. His spectacles were perched upon his nose and his blue eyes twinkled. His elbows were rested upon the desk he sat behind and his hands were lifted in front of him to form a sort of triangle.

The other man said nothing, just simply glared at the pale blond. Never before had Draco witnessed that look directed at himself from those deep, dark fathomless black eyes that seemed to stare straight into the soul. Draco swallowed the lump in his throat, ignoring the bruise he knew was forming.

"Oh for goodness sake, Mr. Malfoy. Calm down!" the Headmistress reprimanded sternly. "You act as though you've never seen a portrait before."

Draco's head snapped towards McGonagall, his eyes widened in fear. "I," he started and stopped. He glanced back up at the portraits. "I…"

"I don't blame you for what happened, Draco," the portrait of Dumbledore stated kindly. "You had your faults as a child, but you were a terrific student. It was my idea and insistence that Professor Snape made you Head Boy."

"But," Draco argued, frowning. "I was responsible. I let those Death Eaters into this school. My mission was to kill you. I…"

"You did what you felt you had to do to protect your family," Dumbledore interrupted, holding his hands up to silence the young Slytherin. "You did not kill me, nor would you have. Besides, my death would have come whether you had dealt the blow or not."

"What do you mean?"

Snape's portrait sighed. "He means he was already dying, you idiotic boy," he snapped. "We knew Voldemort was going to send you on that suicide mission. The moment it was confirmed, Dumbledore began making plans to keep you as safe as possible. It was convenient that he was cursed weeks later, thus leading him on the path of imminent death. After that, the way was clear. Honestly, there was only one option for us. We couldn't allow you to kill Dumbledore. I fought him on it, because I was hoping to find a potion or spell to reverse the curse, but he had other plans."

Dumbledore's smile was gentle and reassuring. "I was an old man. There were many hardships throughout my life and I was tired. The curse had fated me to spending the rest of my life in unspeakable pain. Professor Snape was kind enough to help me find that peace as quickly and painlessly as possible. You have nothing to fear, dear boy. Your soul is still pure, which had been my objective."

"Still pure?!" Draco repeated, looking at the man incredulously. "I almost killed you! One of my best friends died in front of my eyes and I had to perform countless Unforgivables in that god-forsaken Dark Arts class! Not to mention all the other Dark spells I learned. Of course, I already knew most of them because, in case you've forgotten, I became a Death Eater!"

The former Headmaster nodded through Draco's rant. "Life is full of choices, Draco. I do not know why your father felt it prudent to teach you such spells at such a young age, but when the Final Battle did come, you did not conjure them. Your heart is pure. In the end, you chose your family above all. You performed admirably in the face of danger."

The Slytherin bowed his head, shaking it, as he closed his eyes. "There's nothing admirable about running away with your tail between your legs," he said.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said irritably, drawing his attention back to her. She glared at the two portraits. "The three of you can discuss Mr. Malfoy's bravery _after_ we've finished this meeting, if it's that important."

Draco frowned at her. "I wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor…"

"You weren't Sorted into Gryffindor because you are a Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy," she snapped, clearly annoyed. "You don't have to be in Gryffindor to be brave, either. Dumbledore is right. You did the best you could to protect your family. You did what Voldemort required of you to do when he required it. Is that not why Mr. Potter stood up for you in court? If it weren't for you and your mother that war would have ended vastly different, so it's time to focus your mind back to the present and stop living in the past."

"So why am I here?" he asked, going back to their original topic.

McGonagall sighed as she picked up a parchment that had been lying on her desk. Draco recognized it as the letter he had written her. "Something you said in this last letter threw me off, Mr. Malfoy. Your words indicated you were possibly interested in a job here?"

Ah, yes! He remembered mentioning that. He had been pulling at straws, however. He was careful not to smile as he allowed his eyes to meet hers. "It was just a thought," he explained with a shrug. "I get bored sitting in that Manor with only my mother for company. I figured it was worth a try."

She looked at him and he wondered what she was thinking. Privately, he was still working on Legilimancy, and he still had quite a ways to go. Though the lessons had been hell, he was grateful for learning Occlumancy.

"Even if I did have a position open, Mr. Malfoy," she told him carefully. "I'm not certain hiring you would be the best idea. Professor Dumbledore was correct in that you were a very talented student. Your scores rivalled Miss Hermione Granger's, but the fact still remains that you were a Death Eater."

"So was I, Minerva," Snape pointed out. "You said it best. We shouldn't live in the past. Mr. Malfoy is more than capable of teaching the students if that is truly his desire. If you have any objections, you could always forbid the Defense Against the Dark Arts position to him. However, if he wanted, he could teach Potions, Charms, or even Transfiguration. He is quite formidable in all those subjects and…"

"I don't want to teach, really," Draco said, glancing up at Snape. He looked at McGonagall hopefully. "As I said, it had only been a passing thought, little more. I am hoping to get a job in the Ministry, but it would be nice to know that if I couldn't work there, then perhaps there may be a spot here for me?"

He could tell she was studying him. "Why would you want a job here at Hogwarts?" she asked, and he frowned at her surprisingly sarcastic tone.

He decided to ignore the tone as he shrugged, looking away. "I'm not sure. Like I said, it was a thought. My main desire is to work in the Ministry," he said, letting his eyes meet hers again. "Don't get me wrong, Headmistress. Hogwarts has its appeal, certainly. Just being here for the past… thirty minutes? Has brought up more childhood memories than I had imagined. Coming here to work would be much like coming home."

McGonagall pressed her lips together in obvious thought. "Do you even need a job?"

Draco chuckled as he felt himself beginning to relax. Talking to Dumbledore and Snape had certainly lifted a lot of weight off his shoulders. The old codger had been sick anyway? Draco must have done him quite the favor. "You're right," he said. "I've donated millions to the Ministry and Hogwarts. Though I cannot claim to be the sole provider of the expenses, I did give more than my fair share, if you will. Not to mention the number of charities I donate to on a monthly basis. All of this and, honestly, any children I ever have are still set for life." He gave her a rather bored look. "As I said, life in the Manor has become rather dull. My mother spends most of her time in the gardens, mourning the loss of my father. The only true entertainment I have is riding my broom and even that is slowly losing its charm."

"You should find a hobby, Mr. Malfoy. St. Mungos is always in need of potions and all those charities you donate to… Have you ever thought about attending a charity event? Or maybe organizing one to help raise even more money? While your Galleons are more than welcomed, I'm sure, but throwing a fancy ball to bring in even more Galleons would be even more appreciated," she suggested. She tilted her head a bit forward. "Your father used to throw money around, thinking it would solve all of his problems, but it seems like those problems just grew as he invested in the wrong concepts."

He opened his mouth to argue and she held her hand up, silencing him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. We don't have any positions open at this moment, and even if we did, I'm not certain it would be a good fit for you. Not to mention, I still have my doubts given your past," she said. She took a deep breath. "I would need proof that you are a changed man before I can feel safe placing you amongst other people's children. You wouldn't just be teaching Purebloods, and I won't have a prejudice teacher on my staff. We get that enough with the Houses as it is."

Another reason for him to marry Granger. If he did, no one would question whether or not he was still prejudice. "I understand, Professor. Perhaps you could keep me in mind, then? In the meantime, I think I will take your suggestions and start working with them. I hadn't actually thought of doing any of those things before. I am used to just giving my money away, not really thinking about my personal time."

He took out his pocket watch and gave it a glance. It was getting close to noon. Granger should be getting her flowers soon and he needed to be there for the delivery. He turned his attention back up to the Headmistress. "Forgive me, Professor," he said as he placed the watch back into his pocket. "It seems time has managed to slip away from me."

"Do you have another engagement?" she asked, lifting a single eyebrow.

He gave her a small smile. "I do, actually. I'm supposed to meet with someone in the Ministry shortly. With luck, I may have a job soon."

"Very well. I thank you for your time, Mr. Malfoy," she said as she stood up. He followed her. "I do wish you luck today. I know you will excel in whatever position you manage to gain. And if, at a later date, you've managed to prove yourself, you are welcomed to come here and try again."

He nodded with a smile. As he walked off the grounds, several thoughts floated around his head. His first thought had been that his time at the school had been a waste, but then he thought over the ideas McGonagall had given him. His smirk widened. Yes. Without knowing it, she had given him even more ideas of how to win over Granger. He knew the Muggle-born was a sap for charities. He just needed to find out what other things she was passionate about besides elves.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco stopped in the hallway and quickly stepped to the right of the office, out of view. The volume of the voices coming from said office was loud enough for anyone passing by to hear and he had to suppress a smile when he realized what the conversation was.

"Who brought you the flowers, Hermione?!" Weasley shouted angrily.

Draco could hear Granger give an irritated huff. "If I knew that, Ronald, don't you think I would have said something?"

"Are you sleeping with him?!" the ginger demanded and Draco could only think of how much he wished that were true.

"What?! No! You know the answer to that question," Granger snapped back.

"Really? How would I? It's not like you're warming my bed!" Weasley ground out and Draco found that he was having a really hard time stifling a laugh.

So, Weasel breath wasn't getting any from the Gryffindor Princess? For Draco, this was a really good sign, though he was curious as to why. "You know I'm saving myself!" was the screeched answer and Draco's eyes widened in surprise.

Granger was a virgin? Well, his day was now starting to get better and better. He leaned against the wall, out of sight of anyone who may pass by. Glancing down at Maisey, Draco threw the house elf a satisfied smirk which she returned rather shyly.

"Yeah right!" Weasel yelled and Draco frowned. "You're just not giving it up to me because you're giving it to him! Who is he?!"

"How dare you!"

"Hermione, who gave you the flowers?"

"I don't know!"

Draco heard a defeated growl coming from the pauper and he silently rejoiced. Well, he hadn't expected this turn of events. Something as simple as a bouquet of flowers had ruined the Gryffindor love match? He held his breath, not believing his luck.

"Ron, where are you going?!" Granger cried as the door was flung open. Draco stepped even further into his hiding spot, not wanting to be caught spying.

He watched as the ginger stormed out of the office and glared at Granger. "You refuse to tell me who sent you those flowers," he argued. "And I know who ever it is, you've been sleeping with him. NO MAN sends flowers to a woman just because he thinks the flowers are pretty. You've been lying to me and now that I caught you, you act like it's nothing!"

"It _is_ nothing, Ronald! I don't know who sent me those flowers and I'm not sleeping with anyone!" the bushy brunette cried as she followed him out of the office. She reached out to grab his arm. "Ron, where are you going?"

He snatched his arm out of her grasp and sneered at her. "Away from you! Hope this guy is worth it, Hermione, because we are through!" he snarled as he stormed away.

Draco watched the ginger a moment longer before he turned his attention back to Granger. She had fallen to her knees and was openly sobbing right there in the middle of the hallway. That wasn't something he had wanted. He remembered all the times when he knew he had made her cry and he felt his heart crack. It was his fault that she sat on the floor now, crying. Looking at Maisey, he straightened his clothes and slipped out of his hiding spot.

He approached the Gryffindor gently and knelt down to her, placing a light hand on her back. "Is everything alright, Granger?" he whispered, acting as though he had not just witnessed the fight of the century.

Her fury at him had not been expected as she violently pushed him away and stood up. Those years as a Seeker came in handy at that moment as he was able to maintain his balance, though he followed her in standing. "Get away from me, Malfoy!" she spat at him. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I was just passing through, on my way to the Minister's office, when I saw you on the floor crying," he admitted, though it wasn't really the truth. "Forgive me if I show a bit of concern."

She scowled. "Why would you be concerned about a Mudblood?" she asked, stepping further away from him.

His frown deepened. "I thought we were past all of that?" he commented. "I hadn't thought of you in those terms for years now."

She threw her arm out at him, showing him the scarred word written on her forearm and pointed at it. "See?! Mudblood! That's what I am! Your bloody aunt made sure that everyone would know of it!"

"Last I checked, that woman was dead," he said as he looked up into her swollen red eyes. "She was an evil sadistic bitch and she deserved the fate she earned for herself. I cannot be faulted…"

"Who was the first person to ever call me that name, Malfoy?!" she shouted.

He did not even know how the argument between Granger and Weasley had changed to this. It honestly had nothing to do with those flowers and he stared at her. He could see the hurt in her eyes and his anger began to deflate some. "What happened?" he asked, his voice lowered to a calm manner.

She said nothing for a few seconds before the tears began pouring out of her eyes once more. He was quick on the uptake, folding his arms around her and holding her as she sobbed. He could feel his heart genuinely breaking for this woman and he was almost tempted to tell her who had sent the flowers, but now was not the time. He led her back into her office and glanced at Maisey, mouthing the word "refreshments" to the elf as he guided the woman to her chair.

He knelt down in front of her, not caring about the mess she was making on his expensive suit. He saw Maisey bring a tray of tea and biscuits as well as a box of tissue. The Pureblood winked at the little house elf before gently prying the Muggle born off his shoulder. Instead of reaching for a tissue, he pulled out his own handkerchief and handed it to her. He focused all of his attention on her, knowing these were crucial moments.

"Granger?" he whispered tentatively.

She took the handkerchief from him and blew her nose before dabbing at her eyes. For a while, they sat there in silence as she calmed down her sobs, hiccupping in the process. He watched her fiddle with the piece of cloth as she folded it gently. A sad smile curved up her lips as she showed him the green engraved initials. "DLM? What does the 'L' stand for?" she asked as she hiccupped again.

"Lucius," he answered. He turned in his spot, though he did not stand, and picked up the teapot to pour some tea in a small cup. Placing the teapot back onto the tray, he picked up the teacup and handed it to her.

She accepted the cup. "Not very imaginative," she commented. "How did your parents come up with a name like 'Draco' if they gave you your father's name for a middle name?"

He shrugged. "My father always had been a bit conceited," he commented, earning a very unladylike snort from the witch. He smiled as he added, "My given name came from my mother, though. Her family had always been fascinated by the constellations and after four attempts, she knew that I would be a fighter and wanted to give me the strongest name she could think of."

"Four attempts?" she asked curiously, taking a sip of tea.

"I wasn't the only child my parents had been pregnant with," he told her. "I was just the only one to make it out alive."

He could see the emotions swirling in the Gryffindor's eyes at his words and he debated whether he should sooth her obvious pain or retort for her sympathy. He decided upon a different route as he moved to a seat next to hers and poured his own cup of tea. "You shouldn't be surprised, Granger," he said as he put a lump of sugar in his tea and stirred. "Most Pureblood families have a hard time conceiving. Families like the Bullstrodes and Parkinsons are a rarity in the Wizarding World."

He almost said the name Weasley, but had opted for the safer "Parkinson" instead. There was truth in his statement, but he didn't want to drag up the Weasley name when it was an obvious distress for her.

"Wait. Millicent and Pansy aren't only children?" she asked, her eyes wide with shock.

He chuckled. "Unfortunately, not," he told her honestly. "Bullstrode has three brothers and Parkinson has a sister. Daisy should be in her third year coming up. That's Parkinson's sister," he said. "And Bullstrode's brothers all went to Durmstrang. With Millicent being the youngest and only girl, her parents thought it prudent to give her a gentler education."

Granger nodded and took another sip of her tea and a companionable silence fell over them. Placing her cup back on the tray, Granger stood up and walked towards the bouquet of white roses sitting on her desk.

"Those are beautiful flowers," Draco commented, making sure not to smile as she delicately touched a pristine white petal.

A single tear fell from Granger's eyes and the Pureblood almost feared she would start crying again. Perhaps white roses wasn't the best way to go.

"I wish I knew who had sent them," she responded after a few seconds. Her eyes hardened. "I can't believe that prat actually thought…"

She gave an annoyed growl and walked away from the flowers. Draco frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked, curious. "Aren't they from Weaselbee?"

Her head snapped to him and she glared. "No," she retorted. "I don't know who they were from and like the jealous arse he is, Ronald immediately accused me of having another bloke on the side. As if I would stoop so low! I have my hands full as it is with him!"

Draco's lips pinched as he scrunched his eyebrows. "He's an idiot," he said. "We may not have hung out at school, but anyone who knew anything about you, knew you were loyal above anything. There were assumptions that you had the hots for either Potter or Weasley, of course, but only an idiot would think you'd betray one of them."

There was a lot of truth in his statement and he knew it. In the back of his mind, the thought made him a bit leery. If she were to marry him, would she think she was betraying Pothead? The thought was tucked away for later perusal as he saw her begin to lighten up.

She smoothed out the handkerchief some more, running a thumb over the intricate embroidery. "They were the first true friends I made in school," she admitted as she stared at the letters. "I did speak to Neville a little as well as…" He saw something flash through her eyes that was akin to a remembered pain. "Well, obviously the other girls in my dorm. But I think most of them, especially Neville, was more intimidated by me than anything."

He snorted. "I'm sure Longbottom could have been intimidated by a fly at that time." Her eyes snapped to him in a glare and he held his hands up in a defensively. "Look, Longbottom came into his own in the end, I won't deny that. He was quite formidable at the end of the war and had obviously grown a pair of gonads."

She laughed as her cheeks turned pink and shook her head. "I really don't want to discuss the size of Neville's intimate parts."

He sniffed. "Nor do I." He gave her a horrified look at the mere thought.

She giggled as she looked back down at the handkerchief. "But I understand what you mean," she told him. "Point is, until Harry and… well, until the night of Halloween that first year, I didn't really have any friends. No one would speak to me, unless it was to ask a question about some subject they were having difficulty with."

He nodded. "Perhaps I should have tried befriending you rather than Potter all those years ago," he surmised. "God knows, we were both at the top of our class and obviously shared similar interests."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't have been your friend," she said, looking up at him. "You were cute, but you were also arrogant, self-centered, and a bully."

"You thought I was cute?" he asked with a satisfied smirk.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Yes, of course that's what you would take out of that statement. I wasn't the only girl who thought so, though I do think I was one of the few who lost my rose colored glasses sometime by midyear."

"Rose colored glasses?" he questioned, looking at her in confusion. "I didn't know you wore glasses."

As she giggled again, he found that he was really enjoying the twinkling sound, though he had no idea what she found so funny. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's a Muggle expression. 'Rose colored glasses' is another way of expressing being blind to a person's faults due to their more amiable qualities. In your instance, it had been your looks and your brain. I honestly didn't think I had ever met a boy so knowledgeable in a subject I was so fascinated with."

"Which subject was that?" he asked curiously.

She laughed as she threw her hands up in the air in a wide gesture. "Magic!" she said, which made him chuckle as well.

She used the corner of the handkerchief to dab at the corners of her eyes. He watched her and was pleased to see she was dabbing away happy tears, rather than sad ones. She seemed to simmer down as she bowed her head again, looking at the cloth. He saw the smile fade and he frowned at the sight. She looked back up at him and, as if realizing who she was talking to, she lifted the handkerchief to him, to hand it back to him. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I know you're not interested in the sap story of a Mudblood."

He shook his head and refused to take the cloth back. "Keep it," he told her. "And don't apologize. Honestly, I don't mind. Any story that has me being called 'cute' in it is a good enough story for me," he joked, earning a rather chaffing laugh. He reached out to touch her hand, but stopped before actually making contact. He wasn't sure she was ready for that much. "If anyone should apologize, it should be me."

She scowled as she stared at him. "Why?"

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, dropping his hand into his lap. "I never should have called you that god-awful word," he acknowledged, more to himself than to her. "I wanted so much to be like my father. I admired him and everything he stood for and wanted to imitate him. I did imitate him for a very long time." He raised his eyes to gaze into hers. "I had never met one of 'your kind' before. And to see that someone like you had managed to surpass me in every subject, angered me. It wasn't your fault, but I blamed you. When I received my final grades for my first year and learned that I wasn't the highest ranking student, I became frustrated. Perfect grades are important for a Malfoy. My father had been a Prefect and a Head Boy when he was in school. He had been at the top of his class, and nothing less would be accepted for me. I was… jealous. And my father wouldn't let me live it down."

He saw sympathy in her eyes and while he loathed it, he knew it worked in his favor, so he didn't say anything. "I'm sorry your father gave you grief," she said. "It had never been my intention to cause strife for you at home."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it," he assured her. "He was just looking out for me. Wanted me to be the best, which is what he had been. Again, it wasn't your fault and I apologize for taking my anger out on you."

"You were just a boy," she defended, waving it off. "I know what it means to want to impress your parents. Mine were the same when it came to my grades. I think that's why I was so adamant to work so hard at it. Besides, all the subjects were so fascinating. I was astounded by the idea of turning a tea kettle into a rabbit and creating a potion that could temporarily change you into someone else."

He had a sudden desire to kiss her, though he knew it wouldn't be welcomed. His mother had been right. "You know I never truly disliked you," he said, and then quickly added, "I mean, sure I hated that you always got top marks and that you were a Muggle-born and a Gryffindor to boot. And then in fourth year…" He let his voice trail away as he looked away from her.

He really wanted to see the look on her face. She knew what he was alluding to. She had to know, but he had to be careful. He was pressing his advantage as much as it was.

"Hermione?"

The voice startled both of them, causing Draco to stand up, touching his wand, and look to the door. Harry Potter walked into the office, looking concerned. His eyes narrowed as he saw Draco.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he asked.

Draco took a deep breath. "I saw Granger sobbing on the floor and figured I would do your job," he answered, unable to keep the snark out of his voice.

Potter glowered at the Pureblood and Granger stood, quickly walking between the two. "He was getting ready to leave actually, Harry," she explained.

He was? He glanced at her in confusion. Their conversation had been going so well! Blasted Potter. He glared at the dark haired man. "Yes, I was," he decided. He really was doing too much too quickly. "I just want to make sure Granger is going to be alright."

Granger looked at him kindly and gave him a soft smile. "Thank you, Malfoy," she said, looking at him sadly. "I'll be ok. I just… This whole day has been a shock. Everything will be fine."

He nodded, though was unconvinced. "Well, if you need anything, send me an owl," he offered. "I wouldn't be opposed to singing a few ginger hairs off that mop of his."

Granger's bottom lip quivered and he couldn't tell if she was wanting to laugh or cry at his statement. "Thank you, again. And I'll return your handkerchief after I've washed it," she promised.

He gave her a gentle smile, hoping that she would forget to do just that. He truly wanted her to keep it because he knew it would remind her of him every time she saw it. To make sure she would, he sent a silent spell to the cloth that would cause her to forget about it when she wasn't looking at it. "Good day to you, Granger," he said. "I look forward to meeting up with you again sometime. Maybe under less…" he gave a pointed look at Potter, who looked as though he wanted to take Draco's head off, "hostile circumstances."

She nodded as he pushed past Potter. As he started to walk out into the hallway, he heard the black haired man ask Granger in hushed tones, "What did he want?"

Walking down the hallway, Draco couldn't help the pleased smirk on his face. "Come on, Maisey, let's go home."

"What about the Minister?" she asked as she jogged to keep up with him.

He glanced down at her in momentary confusion before realizing what she was talking about. "Oh, that? I lied. If I showed up at the Minister's office, I think he'd shite himself. No. My work here is done for now."

Touching her head, he allowed her to Apparate them back to the Manor.

(II)(II)

Draco flopped in his chair in his private drawing room. "Maisey, bring me my brandy decanter and inform my mother that I'm home," he said as he draped his legs over one arm of his chair and looked lazily at the soft fire.

He heard the Crack! that indicated the elf had left to do his bidding and he sighed. The day had been exhausting, but it worked out well for him in the end. Sure he could easily go to Shacklebolt and request a job, but it wouldn't benefit him if the Minister decided to give him some random, obscure job away from Granger. Those flowers had been a nice touch for him and he was glad for it.

His plans were working smoothly. Sure he would have to work on McGonagall some more, showing her he had changed, but that should be easy if he started donating to the causes Granger was passionate about. He just needed to know what those were. House elves were a given, of course. He would have to convince her into making a few changes in her doctrine, but he felt confident after the day's events. And, overall, he honestly agreed with her assessment over the rights of house elves. Changes needed to be made and he knew Granger would make them.

Granger and Weasley were done, from what he knew. That was a major bonus. He hadn't expected his flowers to have that sort of reaction, but he wasn't complaining. Now he just needed to keep them separated. More flowers and some boxes of Sugar Quills should do the trick. And he would have to start inviting her out to places. Perhaps he could invite her to lunch some time?

His thoughts were interrupted as his mother entered the room. He gave her a lazy smile.

"Hello, darling," she greeted, coming to stand in front of him. She took a delicate seat in the arm chair across from him. "Maisey looked very happy about something, though it was difficult to determine what it was."

He nodded. "She should be pleased," he commented as he sat up and reached for the decanter and poured himself a finger of brandy. He took a pull from the drink and allowed the liquid to play on his tongue for a moment. He leaned back in his chair and glanced at his mother. "I've made progress with Granger."

Her face split into a wide smile. "Oh, good! What happened?"

He gently swished his drink around in his glass as he leaned his head back. "I sent her flowers," he said simply, "but didn't tell her I had done so. That pauper she was dating saw them and blew up in her face about it."

"Was dating?"

He shrugged. "He accused her of cheating and broke up with her," he said simply, as though it wasn't important. "And I was the knight in shining armor to bring her out of her stupor, of course, I waited until he had left." He looked at his mother. "She's a virgin, too, by the way."

She blinked at his last statement. "It's good to know she still has some morals about her," she said as she sat back in her chair. "I spoke with Everard Greengrass today. Apparently your father was working on a contract with him and hoping to combine our families." She sighed. "They were going to have you and Astoria marry before your father was incarcerated."

Draco scoffed and downed the rest of his drink, then poured himself another one. "I wouldn't have consented," he told her. "Astoria was a worse slag than her sister. Hell, even Pansy Parkinson had better sense than she did. If Father knew the number of boys I caught Astoria wrapped around…"

Narcissa shuttered. "Yes, well, I cancelled the contract," she told him. "And I tried to meet with the Grangers, but I couldn't really find them. It is difficult to find Muggles when they are in their world."

"Muggles," he snorted, taking a sip of his drink. He tilted his drink towards his mother. "How much do you want to bet they don't believe in arranged marriages?"

"How barbaric!" she said, placing a hand on her chest as she looked affronted. She used the same hand to wave in the air as she continued, "What do they do? Just let their children marry whomever they want without looking at how such a union could benefit the family?"

He shrugged. It was something else he would have to work on with Granger, but that was too far in the future for him to worry much about it. "Well, think about it, Mum. Wasn't Granger actually engaged to that pauper? Prestige and money must not mean much to them, though you'd never know it the way Granger went on about the wealth her parents supposedly acquired with their tooth business."

At his mother's confusion he shrugged again. Before she could ask, he sighed. "Hell if I know," he said, then he thought of something. "Bloody hell."

Narcissa tilted her head. "What is it?" she asked, curiously.

"I'm going to have to find someone who knows something about Muggles," he admitted grudgingly.

She frowned at that, but nodded in agreement. "Yes, I suppose you will," she whispered softly, her eyes staring off into the distance. "I almost thought of owling your aunt, maybe patch things up with her."

Draco stared at her until she elaborated. "Not your Aunt Bella, obviously, but Andromeda. Aside from you and your father, I haven't really any family left, and I hear she is taking care of that grandson of hers. Dromeda and I got along well enough when we were younger and she was a fine Slytherin. Made Prefect, if I remember right. If she hadn't married that Muggle born, Tonks, she would still be a prominent part of this family, I'm sure."

His eyes widened. He vaguely remembered the Dark Lord mentioning disowned family. Hadn't the Dark Lord asked Draco something about dog sitting? "Why is she caring for her grandson?" he asked.

Narcissa let out a saddened sigh. "Oh, it was horrible, darling," she told him. "Dromeda's daughter had married a werewolf… Lupin, I believe his name was, and they bore a son. During the final battle, Bella hunted them down, hoping to rid our family of the monstrosity. She killed Lupin and, sadly, your cousin as well, but I believe the boy was safe in hiding."

"Lupin? Is that the same man who taught my Defense Against the Dark Arts class during… third year, I think?" he questioned. "I didn't know he was a werewolf."

Narcissa's eyes widened in surprise for a moment. "You know, I believe he is!" she whispered in fright. "I read about it in the paper at the end of that year, now that I think on it. Goodness gracious, that old coot of a headmaster really had some nerve, didn't he?"

Draco wasn't certain who was more affronted, himself or his mother. He watched her as she continued, waving a dismissive hand in the air, "Regardless, Dromeda and the little boy survived the war. I was seriously thinking of contacting her again to see if I could establish a relationship with her. She is my sister, after all, and there really isn't anyone who can tell me not to."

"Father won't be pleased," he pointed out.

"Yes, well, your father is currently serving a twenty year sentence, isn't he?" she spat with little fire. "My point is, Draco, as time goes on, you'll become even busier with Miss Granger and I need to find something to do. You were right when you told me I needed to liven up. If I were to visit your father right now, he would be ashamed at what I've become."

"As he should be," he retorted angrily. "He never should have put you in the position you were put in. You deserve better than what he gave you."

"He did what he thought was best," she defended.

"For whom?" he countered.

She glared at him. "Watch your tone, Draco Lucius," she scolded. "All your father has ever cared about was this family. He wanted to do what was best for us. He just made a mistake."

"A mistake that nearly cost us everything," he spat as he stood up. "A mistake that I now need to fix by marrying a girl who can barely stand me."

His mother stared at him. "I thought you said things were going well with Miss Granger?"

He rolled his eyes and sat back down. "We had a good day," he told her. "After her spat with the pauper, she and I had a long conversation. I was able to console her and even apologized for my past behavior. She was warming up to me nicely, before Potter interrupted us. It wasn't an ideal situation, but I did manage to make it work in my favor. It was a good start and I'm confident I can win her over."

Narcissa looked skeptical. "Be careful, son," she warned. "I don't know what her relationship with Mr. Weasley was, but you don't want to end up being a rebound. Those never work out well."

He shrugged. "If it comes to that, but I doubt it will. I won't be a rebound, I'll be the end result for her. And once we're married, it won't matter anyway, will it?"

She smiled at his words. "So, you're finally amiable to marrying her?" she asked.

He frowned. "I wasn't aware I had much of a choice," he said, giving her a dubious look. "Besides, she's easy enough on the eyes, and she has a brain to match. Not to mention, she's quite witty and clever in her own right. I do agree with you that she'll make an excellent bride. And she's a virgin, which earns her even more credit."

Her smile softened. "Yes, it does," she agreed. "How did you find out that information?"

He told her of the argument Granger had had with the pauper and Narcissa looked incredulous. "That nasty little rat!" she breathed and Draco could have sworn he had seen fire breathe through her nose. "Listen to me, son. You keep her away from that pauper. Hex him, if you have to, but don't let him talk to your wife like that ever again."

"I don't intend to, Mother," he assured her. "It took everything in me not to come out from my hiding spot and hex him then and there, but I needed that argument to happen. It couldn't have worked better for me if I had planned it myself."

"Yes, but you need to keep working on it, son," she told him urgently as she touched his knee. "Don't give her time to think about it. Don't give her a chance to make up with him. Miss Granger has been in his good graces for how long?"

He thought on it for a moment. "That, I'm not sure of."

"Well, no matter," she said. "What's important is keeping her out of his good graces, or even more importantly, keeping him out of hers. He's not right for her. You are. And you need to make sure she sees that and continues to see it."

He nodded. "Maisey!" he called out and the elf appeared instantly. He looked at her for a moment before getting up and walking to a desk near the corner of the room. He wrote a quick note on a piece of parchment, rolled it, and handed it to the elf. "Bring this to Honeydukes and make sure they get the order right. Then I want you to go to the florist and order another bouquet of anonymous flowers to be sent to Granger in a week. Make sure it's white roses again."

The elf nodded happily and disappeared to do his bidding. As Draco returned to his seat, he saw the look on his mother's face. "What?"

"What did the note say?" she asked.

He smirked. "Granger's favorite sweet is Sugar Quills, so I asked them to deliver a box of Sugar Quills to her office with a note attached to it," he said as he mimed writing: "Dear Granger, It still bothers me how much Weasley hurt you. I can only imagine how much it's killing you inside. I know sweets aren't really your 'thing', but I do hope these will help brighten your day. Yours Truly, Draco Malfoy."

Narcissa squealed and clapped. "Oh how marvelous!" she praised as she patted his shoulder. "Such a charmer! You'll have her eating out of the palm of your hand before you know it."

His smirk widened as he nearly glowed at his mother's approval. "Let's not get our hopes up too soon, Mum," he said lightly, "I want to make sure she's favorable to the gift before I go much further."

"Oh rubbish," she snipped, slapping his shoulder lightly. "She would be a fool not to love it. All girls enjoy receiving sweets, especially when they are down about something."

"Mother?" he asked suddenly. "What is a cavreetry?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thoughts? Comments? Let me know what you think! This was actually a fun chapter to write.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco touched the spine of an interesting title and gently pulled the leather bound book from the shelf. He had searched his private library for any books about Muggles, but wasn't surprised to come up empty handed. Why would any Malfoy ever own a book about Muggles? He knew what he was doing at this moment was the epitome of blasphemy. His grandfather was more the likely rolling in his grave.

The blond Slytherin opened the book he had grabbed and flipped through the pages. Sure, he could wait to see if his mother was successful in her attempt to contact her sister, but he wasn't really holding out on that and he wasn't that patient. Knowing how the woman had been cast out of the family, he was certain she was most likely bitter. Though he hoped his mother would get to see her sister again, he wasn't banking on it.

"Well, stars and stones, look who it is!"

Draco looked up from his book and felt a momentary sense of panic. He stared at his old best friend as memories of their childhood flashed through his mind. Nott had been one of the lucky ones. While his father had indeed been a Death Eater, Nott had never had the option to join. Not only that, but his father was so old, the man wasn't much use to the Dark Lord during the war and had managed to steer clear of the final battle. It was Nott's luck his father managed to escape a prison sentence, though Draco still had no idea how he had done it.

"Nott," he greeted as he recovered, glancing back down at the book in his hands.

He heard the dark haired man chuckle and the footsteps of him approaching Draco. "I didn't think I'd ever see you amongst the common folk again," Nott commented, the snark evident in his voice. "What's made you come out of hiding?"

Draco sighed as he snapped the book shut and tucked it into his elbow. He let his eyes wander over the other books, seeing if he could find more similar to what he held. "Yes, well, the Manor does get rather dull after a while," he said. "And my mother's constant state of depression makes it even worse."

He knew Nott was staring at him, but he refused to meet his old friend's eyes. He didn't need to see the judgement to know it was there. Draco had taken the Dark Mark. While his father hadn't been active in the last battle, Lucius had worked a lot with the Dark Lord. In fact, Lucius was even now paying for his crime, rotting away in prison. Draco still marveled at the way that worked out.

"What are you looking for?" the dark haired wizard asked and Draco stifled the blush that had begun to color his cheeks.

"I'm doing a bit of research," he explained, pulling out another book to look at.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nott tilting his head to read the title of the book. "Muggle Catchphrases and Their Meanings?" he said aloud, causing Draco to swallow in embarrassment. "Did you hook up with a Muggle or something?"

Draco's attention snapped to his old friend as he glared at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Nott," he snapped. "I would never stoop so low."

Nott shrugged. "At this point? Why not?" he asked as he glanced up at the books on the shelf. "The Ministry has been trying to encourage more interaction between Purebloods and Muggles. I'm surprised you and your mum haven't gotten caught up in it. They're trying to pass this new decree or some shite about former Death Eaters and their progeny doing community service in the Muggle world, hoping for us to gain a better understanding of the people we were so quick to exterminate." He rolled his eyes as he followed Draco's lead and pulled out a book for himself. "The Second Muggle World War and How It Compares to Our Second War? Are they serious?"

Draco snorted and shook his head, turning his attention back to the shelf. "I looked through that book. It could be an interesting read, but it would be a waste of time for me at the moment and it doesn't give me the information that I need."

"What are you looking for?" Nott asked as he replaced the book.

The blond wizard looked at his old friend in puzzlement. "Become a bookkeeper now, Nott?"

Nott ran a hand through his mop of hair as he chuckled. "Not quite. Just figured I could provide you some sort of help. So, why are you researching Muggles?"

Draco quirked a brow as he tucked the second book into his elbow. He grabbed another book that looked promising and tucked it into his arm without really looking over it. "When have I ever discussed my personal research with anyone else?"

Nott shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask. Don't get your knickers in such a twist, Malfoy," he joked.

Draco sighed as he shoulders sagged a bit. "I apologize, Nott. It's been really stressful in the Manor lately and I do believe it's starting to get to me."

He saw Nott open his mouth to speak when Maisey appeared from around the corner. "Master Draco, sir. Maisey thinks she found something Master could use," she said, holding up the book in her hands.

"Thank you, Maisey,'" he said as he took the book from her and read the title. "This is a good find!" He cracked the book open and flipped through the pages. A smile flitted across his face as he snapped the book shut and tucked it with the others in his arms.

Nott raised his eyebrows, staring at his old friend in bewilderment. "Hey, Malfoy, Zabini and I are meeting up in the Hog's Head for drinks. Care to join us?"

Draco glanced down at the books in his hands, frowning. He hadn't been around his friends in ages, but he really needed to read through these books if he wanted to meet up with Granger later and impress her. He had hated when she had laughed at him over his mispronunciation and ignorance of "cavities". It wasn't his fault he didn't know anything about Muggles.

"Come on, Draco," Nott urged. "We're your friends and we haven't seen you in ages. You can always buy those books and look at them later. Besides, it'll be a great excuse to be out of the Manor for a while longer. And from what I heard, Zabini is bringing a nice little bird with him. Should be interesting."

Draco thought for a little longer and then sighed in defeat. "I suppose you're right," he said as he mentally stamped down the anxiety he was feeling.

Taking the books to the counter, he purchased them and handed them to Maisey. "Take these to the Manor and put them on my desk in my study. After that, I want you to start cleaning Father's old Potions room. You can come back to me when you're done, alright?"

She gave a quick nod. "Yes, Master Draco," she answered and Disapparated.

When Draco turned his attention back to Nott, he saw the funny look his old friend was giving him. "What?"

Nott shook his head. "Since when does Draco Malfoy have servants following him around?"

Draco gave a derisive snort as he began walking out the door. "You'd be surprised at how handy having a servant around can be. Anything I need and I don't have to call on her, because she's right there," he explained, then he threw Nott a smirk. "Not to mention, she helps me in other ways, too."

Nott looked scandalized. "Tell me you're not shagging the elves, Draco," he hissed.

Both of Draco's eyebrows shot up past his bangs as his mouth fell open. "What?" His quickly shook his head. "Hell no! Get your head out of the gutter, mate. I meant she's helping me on a project I'm working on."

"Oh. Ok. Good. I was worried there for a second," Nott commented and Draco saw the tension ease out of the wizard's shoulders. "It was just shocking the way she was looking at you with such adoration. I don't think I've ever seen a house elf act like that."

As they walked down the road towards the pub, Draco shrugged. "Nor have I," he admitted. "But I've been experimenting with this new thing. Taking her with me, making sure she's clean and properly fed, and speaking to her a bit kinder." He grinned at his befuddled friend. "It's been working like a charm, too. I swear each moment in each other's presence makes her more loyal to me. She's so eager to please and she will simply bask in the slightly praise I give her."

"Careful, mate," the dark haired wizard warned as he opened the pub door. "You don't want her to get too attached. She might hinder you from meeting witches, or worse, develop feelings like jealousy when you speak to a witch."

Draco shook his head. "She won't," he said with confidence. "I'm only interested in one witch and Maisey has been helping me to win her."

"Oh?" Nott asked curiously.

Draco shook his head, ending the conversation as he saw Zabini. He lifted an arm to flag the dark skinned wizard down and he and Nott made their way towards him.

"Malfoy!" Zabini said in surprise as he held his hand out for Draco to grasp. "I'm surprised you're still alive." At Draco's confused look, Zabini chuckled. "Nott and I were wagering on whether you had axed yourself or not," he said, running a finger across his neck for emphasis.

"What? Of course not!" Draco snapped at the ridiculous notion, not taking much delight in his friends' laughter. "It's bad enough my family has as much shame as it does. What would be the point in adding suicide to the list?"

Zabini shrugged as Nott signaled the bartender for drinks. They waited as the bartender brought them glasses of firewhiskey. As the tender was setting the glasses on their table, Draco saw a dark skinned witch join them. Zabini wrapped an arm lazily around her shoulders. "Guys, meet Angelina Johnson," he introduced.

Draco frowned in recognition and pointed a finger at her. "Weren't you a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" he asked curiously.

She held her head up high as the bartender set a butterbeer in front of her. "Yes, I was," she confirmed. "And you were the Seeker for the worst team in all of Hogwarts."

The three men stared at her in scandalized shock and she laughed, waving her hand at them. "Men," she chuckled. "Those old school rivalries were really nonsense, weren't they?"

"Don't ever joke about Quidditch," Nott reprimanded, frowning at her. He glared at Zabini. "Why are you dating a Gryffindor?"

Johnson's eyes widened as Zabini quickly recovered, shaking his head. "We aren't dating," he admitted. "Johnson and I work at the Ministry together. Figured she could use a breather from all those documents she flips through all day."

Draco straightened up, looking at Johnson with interest. "What department do you work in?" he asked, genuinely curious.

The dark skinned Gryffindor shrugged, taking a sip of her butterbeer. "The Department of Magical Games and Sports with Zabini," she teased him, then she frowned. "What about you, Malfoy? What have you been up to?"

He leaned back in his chair and took a pull from his firewhiskey. "Pretty much whatever I want," he responded, giving his trademark smirk.

"Like reading about Muggles?" Nott chimed, staring at Draco.

Draco could feel the blood drain from his face as he turned to Nott. Zabini laughed. "Draco Malfoy? Reading about Muggles? That'll be the day," he said with a snort.

Draco's eyes shifted to Zabini before looking back to Nott. He could actually feel a cold sweat start to build up as Nott joined in Zabini's mirth. "Seriously, Malfoy," Nott asked once he and Zabini calmed down. He took a sip of his drink and grimaced at the taste. "What was that all about anyway? Are you honestly trying to impress some bird?"

The blond pureblood blinked as he tried to regain his composure. Taking a deep breath he sighed. "You yourself said the Ministry was trying to create more things to draw us into the Muggle population. Mother had told me about it weeks ago, when she had read about it in the Prophet. I'm simply trying to get a head start."

"Those decrees weren't in the Prophet weeks ago," Johnson said, catching Draco's lie. "In fact, no one is even supposed to know about it. It's just talk and rumors. Percy told me that the chances of them actually passing one is pretty slim to none. I mean, most of the Wizengamot are pureblood. And even the Muggle borns understand the importance in keeping our world a secret from the Muggles."

"Speaking of Muggle borns," Nott said lazily, effectively changing the subject. Draco knew the dark haired man hated talking about politics. "Anyone seen Granger lately? I'm not much into tainting my bloodline, but damn if she's not getting hotter by the day."

"Granger wouldn't taint your bloodline," Zabini said as he took a pull from his drink. "She wouldn't even give you the time of day, mate."

The blood in Draco's veins that had been turning cold, churned white hot as he glared at the other Slytherin. He was going to have to nip this quickly. That was _his_ witch Nott was talking about and Draco wasn't about to let some other snake slither under him and snatch her up. "Granger is untouchable," he snarled, staring daggers at his old friend.

Both Zabini and Nott stared at Draco in shock and Nott lifted his hands in surrender. "Whoa, calm down, mate," he said placidly. "It was just a comment. I have no interest in going anywhere near her."

"What's it to you anyway, Malfoy?" Zabini asked suspiciously. "Is that who you're trying to impress?"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. His mother was right. He really needed to lay off the alcohol. "Of course not," he breathed with his eyes closed. He blinked a few times and looked up at his friends. He saw disbelief in their eyes, but thankfully his own emotions were safely tucked away behind his personal shield. "I saw Granger recently," he told them truthfully. "Weasel breath ended things with her and she's not exactly in a state to entertain any sort of… Well, I doubt she's going to be interested in jumping into another arrangement."

The two Slytherins said nothing for a moment, just continued to gaze at the blond pureblood. Then, suddenly, Nott laughed and fell back against his chair. "I'm not talking about relationships, Malfoy," he admitted. "Just one night. That's all I would need."

"Hermione isn't like that," Johnson told him, concern shining in her eyes. "And if what Malfoy is saying is true, she must be devastated. She and Ron were…"

"Two thirds of the Golden Trio?" Zabini suggested at her pause. He shrugged. "I figured those two wouldn't last. If you think about it, they had very little in common. I honestly think the only reason she held onto him for so long was because of their time in the war."

"He broke it off with her," Draco pointed out. He glanced at his dark skinned friend. "Granger had received a boutique of flowers from some anonymous gent and he became jealous. Starting accusing her of cheating and stormed off."

Nott leaned forward, his voice lowered in a hushed tone. "I don't know Granger well, but I do know she wouldn't cheat," he told them. "And I can say that I've seen him with a woman or two when she wasn't around. In fact, I was half tempted to alert her when I spied him snogging some slag in the Leaky Cauldron a couple months ago."

Johnson's eyes widened, her attention on Nott. "Why didn't you? I can't believe Ron would do something like that!"

"Blackmail, love," Nott said simply, sitting back in his chair.

Flabbergasted, the dark skinned girl just stared at the man. Her face scrunched indignantly as she glowered at him. "Blackmail for what? What had you hoped to gain by spying on him and then withholding that information?"

Nott spread his hands, palms up. "What else? I need a favor, like keeping my father out of Azkaban, and Weasley makes it happen. I see something in the Ministry that I don't care for, he does something about it. Of course, I champion most of Granger's work. Funding her research ensures people see that I'm not like my father."

"I thought you said you weren't interested in Granger?" Zabini prodded.

"I'm not," Nott confessed with a shrug. "But Malfoy just confirmed that she is now single. Think of the prestige one could get by dating the Muggle born. Or even better, actually marrying her."

At those words, Draco stood from his seat, his legs banging against the table, causing drinks to splash onto the wood.

"Watch it!" Zabini shouted, pushing his chair back as he attempted and failed to avoid getting covered in the liquid. "Damn it, Malfoy!" he growled, taking out his handkerchief and dabbing his pants as the bartender brought them some towels. "You owe me a suit!"

"Charge it to Nott's account," Draco snarled as his eyes hardened and looked at the man he once considered a best friend. He held up a hand and pointed at Nott. His other hand clenched into a fist at his side. "I told you Granger was off limits. She's going through a difficult time right now and does not fucking need your brand of charm to confuse her even more! She's been through hell and back and you haven't a clue about any of it!"

Nott's eyes narrowed dangerously as he stood up as well and took a step towards Draco. "You'd be surprised, Malfoy," he spat quietly. "Where were you that year we returned to school? Who the fuck do you think held her and soothed her fears every fucking night? Who the fuck do you think put up with listening to her crying and fucking _screaming_ because she was reliving a fucking nightmare from _your_ fucking house!"

Zabini and Johnson stood as well. The dark skinned Italian stepped between the two men, pushing them away from each other. "Calm down," he ordered them both in soothing tones.

Johnson pulled out her wand and cast a barrier charm between the men, keeping them from getting to one another as Draco lunged at Nott. The force of the barrier threw him back and he landed with a crash on the table behind him. Draco struggled in the debris of the broken table and the bartender hurled him to his feet. Yanking his arms out of the bartender's grasp, Draco straightened his clothes and dusted off the dirt. He made a grab for his own wand, but the bartender seized his arm again.

"Take it out of my bar, gents!" the bartender roared. He threw Draco towards the exit door. "Bring that shite back in here and I'll have the Aurors hull you away!"

Draco stormed out of the pub and quickly Apparated back to the Manor.

(II)(II)

"Fuck!" Draco shouted as he kicked the wall in his study. He punched the door and cursed more as pain shot up his arm. In his rage, he had forgotten the door was made of pure oak.

He put his hands in his hair, grabbing the blond locks roughly and pulling at them as he bent slightly at the waist and moved to his armchair. As he plunked down onto the cushion, he rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He had to get a grip on himself. He still wanted to meet with Granger and he knew he couldn't present himself to her like this. It would scare her, or give her more stress and that was the last thing she needed.

He heard the door to his study open and the click of his mother's heels as she entered the room. "Draco? What's going on?" she asked and then added, "What did you do to your door?"

Frustrated, he threw himself back in his chair. "It doesn't matter," he told her. "This whole fucking plan isn't going to work."

"Watch your language," Narcissa reprimanded as she glared at her son angrily. "Now, tell me, what's going on?"

He sat up and looked at her. He could feel his hand starting to swell, but he ignored it. "Granger's been getting cozy with Theodore Nott who intends to use her to gain status. He was bragging about it in the Hog's Head. Even more, I think he's going to ask her out."

She gave him a disappointed look as she stared down at him. He could easily tower over her, and he knew that, but he was sitting at the moment and she was intimidating. So, he visibly cringed at the look he received from her.

"Draco Lucius," she scolded. "You know better! When have the Notts ever been serious about things like this? And what makes you think he stands a chance against you? You are a Malfoy! Pull yourself together and sit up straight!"

He scowled up at her and then shied away from the look her fierce blue eyes gave him. "He knows," he protested. "They shared a Common Room together, Mother. That year after the war, when you tried to get me to go back and I refused. McGonagall put all the 8th years in a dormitory together, regardless of which House they had been Sorted into. Both he and Blaise Zabini were able to spend actual time with her because she was the only one of the Golden Trio who returned. Even Granger admitted to me that she had spent some time with them. She had little choice, from what she told me."

"And what else did she say about it? Are they friends? Do they owl one another or otherwise keep in contact?"

He thought about it and, as he did, the anger began to leave him. "Actually, no," he said simply. "She told me they rarely spoke and while she did express some companionship with Zabini, she didn't share it with Nott. In fact, she hadn't been able to answer my question when I asked her how Zabini was doing."

Narcissa gestured with her hand. "See? You're getting all jealous over nothing," she concluded. "Even if Mr. Nott has an interest in Miss Granger, it's obvious the feeling is one sided. Besides, I'm sure she'll see through any trick he tries to play on her. You have to remember, Miss Granger is the brightest witch of your age."

He gave her a withering look. "Which is another reason I see folly in this plan, Mum," he said. "How long do you think we'll be able to keep this up before she figures us out?"

She stepped around his armchair and sat on the one in front of him. "You're different, darling," she said. "Mr. Nott simply wants to use her to gain power."

"Isn't that what we're going?" he asked, dropping his hands into his lap and staring at them.

"Of course not," she huffed. "I saw that picture, though I've been incredibly curious about how it happened and who had taken it. How many people know of that moment?" She sighed and continued before he had a chance to answer. "She wasn't the only one glowing, my love. The only other time I've ever seen two people in as much love has been in the photos of your father and myself. You actually love her, and for once in our lives, there's nothing wrong with it. You can have her, Draco. Make her yours. Turn her into a Malfoy. Now that the pauper's out of the way, she's there for the taking."

"Which reminds me," he said, sitting up. "Nott gave me another piece of information I can use. Apparently Weaselbee has been fooling around with other witches behind Granger's back."

Narcissa pinched her lips. "I agree that its good information to have, but I wouldn't utilize it just yet," she suggested. "The wounds of his betrayal are still fresh, but there may be a time when his infidelity will come into play. Just watch and listen."

Draco gave her a patient look as he said, "I'll be twenty years old in five days. I think I know how to use the information I've been given by now."

Her eyes brightened and she clapped her hands. "Yes! Your birthday! You should ask Miss Granger to spend it with you," she advised. "There's this really nice French restaurant opening up in Diagon Alley that would be perfect."

Draco opened his mouth to protest some more, but then closed it. Taking Granger out to a French restaurant was actually a good idea. "I'll ask her tomorrow," he said. "Though, I need to come up with a reason I would ask her and not someone else, like you."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "How about the fact that you're a twenty year old rich bachelor who doesn't like the idea of bringing his mother out for a date? Or what about the idea that, as said twenty year old rich bachelor, you only want the most beautiful young witch to help you celebrate? You're young, son. You need to live, and that will be difficult with your mother trialing around with you. Somehow I doubt any beautiful young witch would approach a man who had his mother on his arm."

"I don't want just any beautiful young witch to approach me," he told her. "I want Granger. She's the only witch that will satisfy me."

Narcissa gave him a knowing smile. "Darling, when you have Miss Granger on your arm, all those other witches will be green with envy and you will be hailed as the most beautiful young couple since your father and me."

"I'll speak with her tomorrow," he assured her.

* * *

**Arthur's Note:** Hey, guys, a review or two would be nice, you know. Let me know what you think? I know some of this may seem a bit confusing, but think about it. In this story, the Yule Ball happened 5 years ago, which means that the war is still really new. It's only been two years, literally if you take into account that Draco's birthday is in June.

I really want to know what you all think!


	8. Chapter 8

Draco straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair as he walked up to the office door. Blessedly, he didn't hear any angry voices on the other side. Bringing his hand up to the door, he hesitated for a moment before rapping his knuckles against the wood.

"Come in!" shouted the voice on the other side.

Plastering a smirk on his face, Draco grabbed the knob, turned it, and stepping inside. What he saw made both of his eyebrows raise in surprise. Granger sat, cross-legged on the floor, with papers spread out around her. Her bushy hair was pulled back in a loose bun and she wore a light blue V neck blouse with matching tights and a short skirt. How short the skirt was, Draco couldn't tell, however it wasn't the tight skirts he typically saw in the Ministry, but he could assume it was rather short the way it was hiked up her legs. The tights hid the creamy flesh he was certain was underneath, to his chagrin. Just the sight of her alone sent a jolt straight to his crotch. "Granger," he greeted, startling her.

She looked up and dropped the parchment she had been holding. "Malfoy! What are you doing here?" she asked.

The parchment had effectively hidden her most intimate part, but he paid it no mind. "I was in the neighborhood," he started to explain, earning him a disbelieving snort from her. His smirk grew. "Alright. Let me rephrase."

"Good idea."

He watched as she stood up, careful to keep herself covered, but she had bent down in a most delicious way. He imagined reaching out to see if her arse was really as tight as it looked. He closed his eyes and stamped his hormones down. There would be time for all that after they were married. He didn't need to press it so soon. She had her honor to uphold, after all, and for once, he wanted to maintain it too.

"Actually, I was reading this book in my library and became confused by something. Since my mother knows as much about Muggles as Snape knew about hair care, I figured I'd come ask you."

She laughed and he reveled in hearing it. "So, you mean," she panted through her laughs, "that Gryffindors weren't the only ones to notice that?"

He allowed her to have her laugh and even joined her in it. "Of course not," he said. "We were just smart enough not to ever mention it. He was our Head of House, if you recall."

She nodded, taking a deep breath, she looked at him curiously. "So, why are you reading about Muggles?" she asked.

He shrugged. "What else am I supposed to do with my time?" he responded as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Oh, I don't know. Volunteer at a soup kitchen?" she suggested with a teasing smile.

He frowned. "What's a soup kitchen?" All those books he read, not a single one had mentioned such a thing.

Her smile broadened even more. "It's a Muggle thing," she explained. "Volunteers cook up this huge meal and serve it to the poor and homeless."

His mind raced as he thought about it. There was no way he would ever serve food like a common house elf. He quickly searched his mind for a change of subject. The sound of Granger's stomach rumbling couldn't have been more perfect if he had planned it. He smirked as his eyes lit up. "So, Granger," he offered teasingly, moving off the door frame, "I was thinking of getting some food. Fancy joining me?"

For a moment, he thought she was going to deny him and had already started thinking of arguments as to why she shouldn't refuse. He watched her as she sighed at the papers in defeat. "I suppose refueling will help me focus more," she said idly.

He frowned. "Refueling? Merlin, Granger, you make it sound like you're some sort if machine."

He hadn't meant to say that, but the startled look she gave him made it worth it. She shook her head, seeming to snap herself out of her daze. "Yes, well, some of us have to actually work for a living, Malfoy," she said as she placed the papers on her desk and grabbed a small beaded purse. She stepped up next to him and for a moment, he was able to look into her honey colored eyes. "Shall we go to the cafeteria?"

He scoffed. "You're joking, right?" Holding his hand out for hers, he gave a short smile when she took it. "I've a much better idea." He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her down to the Floo.

He didn't know how long they sat in that little café, chatting about complete nonsense. She had indeed been surprised that he knew anything at all about Muggles. Those books he had read came in real handy.

"The wizards get a lot of things wrong, you know," she was telling him as she took a bite of her noodles.

He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "So do Muggles."

She gave him a soft smile and nodded in agreement. "I guess its human nature? No one ever wants to take responsibility for their own actions. Instead, they would rather blame someone else."

He looked at her curiously. "Are you speaking about yourself or another?" he questioned.

She sighed. "You don't really care about idle prattle from a Muggle born," she jested, though he didn't hear any true humor in her voice.

He lifted an eyebrow. "How do you know what I care about?" he replied as his eyebrows wrinkled.

They stared at one another for a few seconds. He really wished he knew what she was thinking, but he prayed whatever it was, it was something good. Taking a deep breath, she looked away from him. "Ronald sent me an owl this morning," she confessed and Draco had to stop himself from throwing a nasty comment. "He apologized for what happened. Told me that he realized that I would never do what he had accused me of and that he wanted to get back together."

Draco licked his lips. "Will you take him up on the offer?" he asked.

Granger sighed as she leaned back in her chair. "I honestly don't know. I mean, isn't it expected of me? Aren't we supposed to end up together?"

"Are you?" he countered. "Where is it written that you should settle for someone like him?"

She frowned at him. "Someone like him? And what exactly is he?"

There were a million things Draco wanted to say at that moment. Telling her about the Weasel's cheating would work perfectly. "Someone who doesn't know how to appreciate someone as intelligent and beautiful as you," is what he actually said.

"What did you just say?" she asked, staring at him in awe.

He suddenly found that he couldn't look her in the eye. Memories of their fourth year flashed in his mind. The remembered feel of her soft lips caused him to crave for them again, but he suppressed it. He stared at his plate, silently wishing it could provide him an answer. Something. "The belle of the ball has only grown more beautiful with time," he murmured. He chanced a glance at her and he could feel his cheeks become heated upon seeing her eyes burn into him.

"Why?" she questioned.

Blinking, he met her eyes. "Why what?"

"All these years, Malfoy. Why? Why now?" she demanded as she sat up straight. "You spent… _years_ tormenting me!"

"Actually, I didn't," he argued. "After fourth year…"

"No, you're right! After fourth year, things just became worse," she growled. "And when you did have the chance, you couldn't even pluck up the courage to stand up for what was right."

He could feel his anger rising. "I didn't have a choice, Granger," he snapped.

"Yes you did!" she retorted. "You could have fought. You could have helped us. You could have…"

"Lost my parents," he interrupted, his cheeks red in his anger. "Did you really think it so easy, Granger? My father was wandless and still recovering from being in that hellish prison. My mother, also wandless, was at the mercy of her crazy sister who, in case you didn't take notice, had no problem killing her own fucking blood. The only one keeping my family from being destroyed was me. I…" He shook his head and looked away again. "I'm not strong like you, Granger. I couldn't let that psycho destroy my family. My mum, my dad? They're all I have in this world."

She calmed down at his words and her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He gave her a soft, sad smile. This really wasn't how he had hoped this lunch would go. His mind went through all he had planned. To him, it was still too early to approach her with anything resembling the idea of a relationship. He clenched his teeth and decided to go for it and gazed up at her.

"Look, Granger. I don't expect you to understand what life was like for me back then, but we were children. I…" he stopped. What was he saying? What did he want? Well, he knew what he wanted, but he also knew it wouldn't be that easy. The waitress came by with the check and he handed her some money to pay for the meal. "I'm not bound to tradition anymore, Granger," he said.

"Bound to tradition?" she repeated, confused.

He shrugged. "I don't know how much you know about old Pureblood families," he commented apologetically. "Marry a Pureblood witch that's been chosen for you to build an alliance between your families and add more money to your already heavily impregnated vault. I must learn the family business so I can earn even more money, even though we have enough money that even with all the donations I make, technically, I'll never really have to work."

"Must be torture," she snarked and he scowled.

"I'm trying to apologize to you," he said petulantly.

Granger gave a small snort. "You're doing a bang up job, then," she said sarcastically.

He sighed. "I'm not good at this, Granger."

"Obviously."

"And you're not going to go easy on me, are you?"

"Of course not."

He grimaced. "Fine," he said, exasperated. "I apologize, alright? All those things I did when we were younger was just…" What he wanted to say was "was because I liked you", but he stopped. He shook his head. "I'm a Malfoy," he tried to explain. "I'm also heir to my family's fortune. Because of who I am, there's a lot expected of me."

She looked at him and he found himself wishing he could know what she was thinking. "I suppose a Mudblood besting you in every class really curdled your gut, huh?"

"Don't call yourself that," he said, frowning at her.

"Why not? That's what I am," she told him, leaning back in her chair. "At the end of the day, I was still born from a pair of Muggles. My family has absolutely no history of magic within it. Never has. My parents, my grandparents, my aunts, and uncles. Not a single one has a drop of magic within them. I do think I have a cousin twice removed on my father's side who's good at sleight of hand, but that's not really magic, is it?"

He nodded. "You still shouldn't call yourself that name. I never should have spoken it to you, and for that, I am sorry." He took a sip of his drink. Why was his mouth so dry?

"Did that hurt?" she asked, tilting her head a bit to the right.

Baffled, he looked at her. "What?"

She shrugged as she picked up her own drink and took a sip from it. "Well, I can imagine such a confession isn't something any Malfoy is used to, so it must have really hurt. Must have taken a lot from you."

He stared at her blankly for a moment, trying to figure out what her game was. Certainly she wasn't making fun of him. His expression hardened. "It is not a common occurrence," he said darkly.

She giggled, waving her hand. "I'm just teasing, Malfoy. You really do need to learn to lighten up a bit," she said and he allowed his shoulders to relax.

A smirk played on his lips. "Yes, well, maybe you'd like to help me with that?" he queried. At her curious look, he continued, "I'll be celebrating my twentieth birthday on Monday." He hesitated, "As you can guess, this will be the second year my father hasn't been here to celebrate. My mother has been so distraught over it, while I'm sure she'll try to put on a face for my sake, I'm not really interested in anything so fake."

She frowned. "What exactly are you wanting, Malfoy?"

He shrugged, looking down at his forgotten plate. At some point he had finished his meal, but he didn't remember when. What had he eaten again? Did it matter? "I don't want to spend my birthday alone," he said softly, not looking at her. "And I don't want to spend it inside Malfoy Manor consoling my mother." He didn't raise his head, but he did look up at her. "Twenty years, and I haven't a clue what to do."

She looked troubled as she pinched her lips. "What of your friends? Surely they'd have something planned," she suggested.

He scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. "I doubt it. We don't speak much anymore, honestly."

"And whose fault is that?" she demanded without heat. "It's not like any of them moved. Blaise works at the Ministry and Theo spends more time at Flourish and Blotts than could possibly be healthy for him. And I believe Goyle has been doing charity work with Mr. Weasley."

Draco shuddered at the mention of Goyle. "I don't… Goyle and I don't speak anymore," he admitted.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head as he thought of Crabbe, _That blubbering idiot_, he inwardly sneered. Draco wished he could reach out and strangle his old friend. How did it happen? Why did it happen? He shook his head, feeling even worse than he had before.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Draco said as he looked up and met Granger's eyes. He silently thanked Merlin that he did not see pity in her eyes. "It was just a thought, that's all, but it's fine. Just… Forget I ever said anything."

He stood up and she followed him. "Malfoy," she said, but he ignored her. He turned around and began to walk away when he heard, "Draco," and felt her hand on his shoulder. Surprised, he stopped and slowly turned around, catching her honey eyes with his.

"Thank you for the meal," she whispered as she took a step closer to him. "If you'd like, you can meet me at the Leaky Cauldron Monday night. I'm going to be stuck in board rooms all day, so I won't see you then, but Monday night… around 7? Perhaps we can, I don't know, have cake or something."

He gave her a small smirk. "Cake sounds good," he commented, his smile slowly widening. "Alright… Hermione. Monday night at seven."

She returned his smile and raised a single eyebrow. "Now, don't get any ideas, alright? This isn't a date. It's a celebration as we launch you into your third decade."

"Launch?" he questioned looking aghast. "You make it sound like I'm some sort of rocket."

He knew his comment would shock her and he wasn't disappointed. He winked at her. "You didn't think a Pureblood like me would know about rockets, did you? You'd be surprised what

I know. I was… second in my year. Would've been first if not for some know-it-all Muggle born."

The most spectacular thing Draco had ever seen were the emotions flitting over Granger's face. "I'll see you Monday night," he said when she didn't say anything more.

As he left, he couldn't help but feel satisfied by the confused, shocked state he knew he had left her. Yes. Things were going perfectly.

(II)(II)

Over the course of the next few days, Draco began spending more and more time lurking in the corridors of the Ministry. He would take Granger out to lunch each day where they would laugh and speak of old school days before the war.

"There we were, standing in the hallway naked as the day we were born!" he joked one day, earning giggles from the Gryffindor.

"I'm surprised you didn't get caught," she said, covering her mouth as she tried to swallow her food and laugh at the same time.

Draco shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "We're Slytherins," he said by way of explanation. "I think the only time I ever got caught was when I was trying to rat you lot out."

Granger shook her head. "Yes, well, you deserved it. That's what you get for spying on us," she said, pointing her fork at him.

He smirked. "Well, I hated Potter. I would've done anything to get his arse in trouble. Him and Weaselbee."

"Why?" she asked, genuinely curious. "What did they ever do to you? Seriously?"

Draco frowned as he thought it over. He had to be careful when choosing his words. He didn't want to upset her. "I'd always admired my father, you know that. As a child growing up around him, I wanted to be just like him. I wanted his hair, his style, his… I wanted to be him. I would've done anything for him, too."

"Thank God you aren't your father," she breathed.

He looked at her curiously. "Are you sure about that?" he asked. When she gave him a bewildered look, he shrugged. "I did become a Death Eater and I failed in a task the Dark Lord had given to me, just like my father before me." When she looked as though she was about to interrupt, he held a hand up to halt her words. "I don't regret not going through with it. The fact, however, is that the Dark Lord had given me a mission to complete, much like he had given my father. And we both failed. Father never got that prophecy and I didn't kill Dumbledore."

He sighed. "To answer your question, Father had wanted me to be friends with Potter. In fact, the summer before first year had started, I don't believe a day passed where he didn't talk about Potter and I being friends. He was so certain of what Scarhead would become and I would be his right hand."

"What did he think Harry would become?" she asked in hushed tones.

He glanced at her, his eyes silver. "The next Dark Lord?" he said softly. Her eyes widened and he shrugged. "No one knew what had happened all those years ago. One moment, the Dark Lord was at the height of his power and the next… he was gone. In his place were two very dead people and a single babe with a lightning scar on his forehead. What were people supposed to think?"

"He must have been angry when you owled him that you and Harry weren't friends…" she surmised.

He pinched his lips. "Not really," he told her. "Sure he was disappointed, but he didn't really fault me, especially after I told him who Potter was spending his time with."

Granger frowned. "A Mudblood and a Weasley?"

He looked at her, but found he could not deny her scathing words. "I'm not going to lie to you, Hermione. We needed to know if Potter was the next Dark Lord and I knew the moment he chose Weasley over me that he wasn't. That being said, as the years progressed, there were even more reasons for me to dislike him. The fact that he constantly beat me at Quidditch, winning the House Cup each year, being friends with you…" He let his voice trail off at that, glancing away from her.

He felt her hand touch his and his eyes zoomed to his hand in shock. He stared at their hands, turning his hand around so her fingers fell into his palm and he gently closed his fingers around hers, rubbing his thumb over them. Her hand was so tiny in comparison to his. And it was soft! So fragile as well. He suddenly realized he had never seen anything so delicate, so beautiful as her hand and he was mesmerized.

"Draco," she said, snapping his mind back to attention. He looked up at her and silver met honey. "We can be friends now, if you like."

His lips turned upward in a smile. "I would," he replied and she giggled.

He chuckled along with her and as he did so, all he could think was that his plan was moving along very, very smoothly.


	9. Chapter 9

"You've always been so handsome," his mother cooed as they stood together in front of the mirror. Narcissa reached around her son and straightened his tie. "Twenty years old. I had always hoped I would see this day and now, here it is," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you, darling."

He placed his hand over hers and met her eyes. "Everything's going to get better, Mum," he promised her and he desperately wanted to believe it. "Before you know it, I'll be married and Father will be home. Who knows? Maybe you'll even have a grandchild or two."

She gave him a sad smile and turned him around. "I know, my love, but first you have to propose to the girl," she said, slapping his shoulder. "And you won't get that chance by standing around here."

(II)(II)

Draco stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and glanced around. The pub was a little busier than usual and it surprised him. He began walking, wondering if the witch he was supposed to meet was actually going to show or not. She couldn't be late, could she? All those years in Hogwarts, he couldn't recall her ever being late to a class.

Small, feminine hands suddenly reached up from behind him and covered his eyes. "Guess who?" her voice chirped.

He had shuddered, almost going into panic mode, when the hands blinded him, but the voice acted like a calming balm. He reached behind him and touched her sides, tickling her. "It's not nice to try and scare people, Granger," he chuckled as she danced away from him.

He turned around on the spot and was pleasantly surprised to see her dressed in an emerald green party dress. The V in the neckline gave a perfect show of cleavage while the skirt flared out. "Are you scared, Malfoy?" she asked.

He grabbed her and pulled her close to him. Staring down at her, he smirked. "You wish."

She threw her head back and laughed aloud. She then looked up at him and gave him a genuine smile. "Happy Birthday, Draco," she said as she stepped out of his embrace.

He wanted to grab her again, but he remained respectful. "Thank you," he said graciously.

She took his hand and pulled him further into the pub. "I've a surprise for you."

Draco followed her, letting his eyes roam her figure. The dress was amazing and he found his eyes running up her legs until they were hidden. He seriously needed to get laid before he did something stupid.

Shaking his head, he looked around and noticed they had entered into a darkened backroom he hadn't been in before. It was too much to hope that he was going to actually get lucky. Suddenly, lights came on and several voices shouted, "Surprise!"

Flabbergasted, Draco took a step back and looked around. Zabini and Nott stood there with wide grins along with several other former Slytherins. In the middle of the room, there was a large cake shaped like a Hungarian Horntail that had been spelled to turn its head and flick its tail as though it were studying each person in turn. Emerald green banners with silver embroidery decorated the room. To say Draco was shocked would have been an understatement.

"Granger booked the room," Nott explained as he handed Draco a glass of firewhiskey.

Draco looked at the Gryffindor. "You did this?" he asked.

She smiled gently. "It's not every day you turn twenty, is it?"

"But why?"

Zabini draped an arm over Draco's shoulders. "Why are you questioning it, mate? She went through a lot of trouble putting all this together for you."

The blond glanced at his friend before his attention was snatched away by another. "Happy Birthday, Draco," Parkinson said.

He stared at his ex in amazement. "You're in on it too?"

She gave a sniff. "I'm doing this as a favor, so don't think it means anything. I'm still sore you never owled me."

"Really? You know it never would have worked out, Pans," Draco said. "Father never would have agreed to the merger."

"What merger?" Granger asked, still standing next to Draco.

He sighed and gave her a sidelong glance. "Between Pansy and me. Pans wanted to take our relationship to the next level, and when I had asked my father about it, he said no." He gave Parkinson a hard look. "It wasn't anything personal, Pans. You know how I felt about you."

"Nothing personal? Well, that's news to me!" the dark haired girl said with a sneer. "And, no, I didn't know how you felt about me because you never said anything."

"Granger really went all out, didn't she?" Daphne Greengrass said as she approached them with a firewhiskey in her hand. "What did you do to earn it?"

It was all Draco could do to shrug as he had absolutely no idea. However, he did know one thing for certain. He was definitely marrying this witch. He had to after all of this.

"Call it an olive branch," Granger suggested with a smile. She leaned in close to him and whispered, "A merger? Really, Draco? Love isn't a business transaction. If you love someone, you should show them. No hesitation."

His eyes went to her again. Grabbing her by the waist, he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply. He felt her tense, but he continued to kiss her, both needing and wanting her to reciprocate.

"Leave it to Malfoy," he heard Parkinson scoff, but he ignored her.

Finally, Granger relaxed in his embrace and Draco swept the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip. The moment she opened her mouth, he pulled her even closer and plunged his tongue inside. He heard whoops and hollers around him. All he could taste was her. His hands ran across her back and he growled.

"Malfoy, get a room!" someone shouted.

"I have a room," he snarled against Granger's lips.

She touched his cheek and he opened his eyes. They broke the kiss and stared into one another's eyes. Her eyes sparkled and he felt himself getting lost in them. "You're amazing," he breathed.

He could see the exact moment when reality started catching up to her. She pushed away from him and he let her slip from him. She touched a hand to her swelling lips and he had to keep himself from smirking at the knowledge that he had caused it. She shook her head. "I just wanted to give you a good birthday."

"So far, it's incredible," he said with a smile.

Tears were in her eyes as they darted around the room before settling. He followed her gaze and saw a highly amused Nott with his arms folded, staring at the couple. "Granger's untouchable, mate?" he asked with a smirk.

"What?" the girl in question demanded, looking at Draco in shock.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed. "Yes," he said to his old friend.

"Untouchable?!" the Muggle born repeated in disbelief. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The blond looked at her in confusion. "What kind of question is that?"

"The kind you ask when someone tells their friends that she's untouchable, you prat! Who do you think you are? You don't control who I can or cannot be with!" He could see she wanted to hit him and readied himself in case she decided to act on it.

"I only said that to protect you!" he growled, waving a hand at Nott who was chuckling. Draco clenched his fist with his other hand.

"Oh, so now you decide to protect me?" she snarked. "News flash, Malfoy! I don't need you to protect me. I'm not a damsel in distress and you are no knight in shining armor!"

He hesitated. What the hell was she talking about? His moment of confusion was all the time she needed to turn on her heel and stalk out of the room. "Enjoy your party," she called behind her.

The Slytherins who were gathered stared at the door. It was Greengrass who broke the silence. "Well? Aren't you going to go after her?"

Draco frowned. "Why should I?"

"Because, you git, look at all she did for you," Greengrass said. "That cake isn't an easy spell to perform and she managed to get all of us together."

He sighed, knowing she was right. He didn't even know what had happened. Things had been going swimmingly and then she just snapped. "I'll be right back," he told his friends and quickly left the room to find Granger.

He found her sitting at the back of the bar, nursing a cocktail. Tears fell unchecked from her eyes as she stared at the candle on her table. He pulled out the chair beside her and sat in it. They stayed that way for a while. She sipped at her drink and he just watched her.

"Ronald asked me out this morning," she said suddenly, though she didn't look at him.

Draco's initial reaction was to make some snide comment about the pauper. He licked his lips as he tamped down his anger. "Wh-what did you tell him?"

She sighed. "He wants to take me to see the Chudley Canons play Puddlemore," she told him, rolling her eyes. She took out a bit of cloth and dabbed at the corner of her eye. "Of all the things, he thought I'd want to go see a Quidditch match."

"Leave it to Weaselbee," he breathed. "So? Are you going?"

She huffed. "Of course not. Ronald thinks a Quidditch match is some form of romantic venture," she said, rolling her eyes.

He nodded quietly and in his mind he was smiling. They said nothing to one another for a while longer. Draco listened to the sounds of the pub. People laughed, talked, and drank. There were diners, too, and people coming in and out of Diagon Alley. He glanced at the witch by his side and really wanted to kiss her again.

"Why did you do this?" he asked suddenly. "Why did you put all this together… for me?"

She gave him a watery smile and replied, "It's your birthday." Looking down at her drink, she added, "I didn't want you to be alone."

"Draco," his mother said causing him to look up in shock.

He stood, eyes wide. "Mother! What are you doing here?" he asked as he hugged her to him.

The older witch buried her head in her son's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his slender frame. "Miss Granger sent me an owl," she explained, pulling back slightly so she could run a hand through his hair. "I am sorry I didn't tell you, darling. She wanted it to be a surprise."

"I tried talking to the Minister about maybe seeing if your father could be here," Granger said from her seat. "But prisoners aren't exactly allowed to leave. However, I did arrange it so you and your mother could see him tomorrow if you like."

He stared at Granger. If she truly wanted to surprise him for his birthday, she had succeeded. He let go of his mother and approached the Muggle born again. Taking her by the hand, he helped her into a standing position and quickly pulled her into an embrace. "I'm going to kiss you again, Granger," he warned in her ear before doing just that.

They weren't even dating and here she was throwing him a birthday party and arranging a visit with his father. Even more, she had managed to get his mother out of the manor. This whole night was far more than he could ever imagine as he allowed his lips and tongue explore the wonderful taste that was Hermione Granger.

Breaking the kiss, he gazed down at her and swept some hair off her cheek. "What did I do to deserve all of this? Why would you care so much?"

She shrugged a little and looked away, staring at his Adam's apple. "Your mother was right. I did owl her, mostly because I was curious. I couldn't understand why a boy who had hated me for so long was starting to come around my office. She replied. She told me more about life at the manor when Voldemort was alive. I don't…" she looked up at him. "What that madman and his lackey made you do..." She pinched her lips. "We all went through indescribable trials at his hands. I'm not surprised by what you had to go through, the burden you had to bear." She rested a hand on his chest and bowed her head. "Like I said, no one should spend their twentieth birthday alone. I felt your parents should be here as well." She actually looked angry at herself. "I wish I could have gotten your father here. The charges against him are outrageous and I've no doubt the only reason the Ministry is keeping him is so they could have someone arrested." As she looked up at him, he was amazed by the sudden fire in her eyes. "He doesn't deserve to be in that prison and I'm going to see to it that he gets out."

He blinked several times and glanced at his mother. She gave him a single nod and smiled at him. Turning his attention back to the witch in his arms, he shook his head. "You're too good to me, Granger," he said softly. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."

"Yes, well, don't thank me yet," she told him. "Thank me when your father is sitting in his own home, free from prison bars."

He smirked, touching her shoulder idly. "Shall we return to the party, love?" he asked. He glanced at his mother and his smirk widened into a boyish grin. "You should see the cake, Mum. It looks like an actual dragon."

Granger brightened at this, snapping her fingers. "Oh! Right! Yes, we should definitely get in there," she told them. "I told Blaise to keep an eye on it, but knowing him he's bound to 'forget' to tell Theo not to go near it."

They hurried back to the party, though Draco had no idea what she was talking about. When they entered into the room, he took one look and burst out laughing. Nott had never looked sourer than he was in that moment covered in chocolate. "What happened?" he managed to ask amid his laughter.

"Blaise!" Granger reproached as she walked up to the cake. Chocolate poured from the cake's mouth and nostrils, congealing onto and over the plate onto the floor. "I told you not to let anyone near this cake!"

Zabini, as well as the other Slytherins, were laughing. "I'm sorry, Granger," he chuckled. "I told him not to, but I swear he's more Gryffindor than Slytherin sometimes."

The other Slytherins laughed even harder as Nott glared at the black man. Narcissa looked at the cake and chocolate in surprise. The cake gave one last turn of its head and stopped moving altogether. The older witch sighed. "I'm sure it was more beautiful, Miss Granger."

Granger looked as though she was about to start crying as she took out her wand and began syphoning the mess. "It was," she told Draco's mother. "And now it's ruined."

Not wanting her to start crying in front of everyone, Draco stepped up to Granger and placed a hand on her back. He was still chuckling as he pulled her into a hug. "Don't worry about it, Hermione," he said, rubbing her back. "If anything, this is the best birthday ever." He glanced at Nott with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Of course, I would have preferred someone a little more feminine covered in chocolate, mate."

"Shut up," Nott growling, wiping chocolate off his face and looking down at his clothes. "300 Galleons," he said. He glared at Draco. "You're lucky I actually like you, you git."

Draco chuckled some more and glanced down at the witch in his arms, still rubbing her back. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I just wanted this day to be perfect for you," she whispered, holding back a sob. "And now…"

"It _is_ perfect, Granger," he insisted. "My mother's here, Nott's covered in chocolate, and you look delicious enough to eat."

"You're supposed to eat the cake," she pointed out innocently.

He gave her a wicked grin at that. Oh how he was going to enjoy showing her the finer things in a relationship once they were married. "Then perhaps we should eat?" he suggested.

Breaking from her seeming trance, Granger moved out of Draco's arms and clapped her hands together. "Right," she said. She looked at Narcissa and blush. "I apologize for the mess, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa gave her a kind smile. "I've known Theodore and Blaise since they were infants. This is just a taste of the mischief they get into with Draco. There's no need to apologize," she said, her blue eyes sparkling. "And, please, call me Narcissa, my dear. So is cake all you have here?"

"Oh, no," Granger gushed as she pointed to a table to the right of the room. "The old bartender, Tom, helped me put together some finger sandwiches and other finger foods." She looked at Narcissa apologetically. "I couldn't afford caviar or escargot, but I hope this works? I did convince Tom to make some of these really delicious cheese balls."

Narcissa smiled kindly. "I'm sure what you have is great, Miss Granger. I was just making sure that there was more than just sweets and sugar."

The Gryffindor waved her hand. "Of course," she said. "I was raised by a couple dentists after all." She gave a laugh and Narcissa smiled, though like Draco, had no idea what the Muggle born was talking about. Granger glanced at Draco. "That is alright?" she asked uncertainly.

He rolled his eyes. "It's perfect, love. Actually," he added as he turned her so that she was facing him. He touched her cheek with his fingertips, "this whole day has been perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday."

"I didn't get your father," she said, looking down.

He tilted her chin upward. "You will," he told her. "Just use that Granger brain of yours and he'll be out in no time."

"Wait," Parkinson interrupted. She pointed an accusing finger at Granger. "You're going to get Lucius Malfoy out of prison?"

Granger glanced up at the Slytherin girl and nodded. "I'll do everything in my power. He doesn't belong there."

"That's not going to be easy. Granger," Zabini said.

Draco smirked at his old friend as he led the Gryffindor to the table of finger foods. "Think of who you're talking to, mate. If anyone can achieve the impossible, it's Granger."

"Oh, don't say that, Draco," the girl complained as she picked up a plate. "I don't want to get your hopes up."

The blond winked at her. "Too late," he teased. At her crestfallen look, he kissed her forehead. "It'll be alright, love. You're quite possibly one of the most stubborn people I know. Hell, you were even able to talk Snape into upping your grade that one time, remember?"

"He didn't do it," she pointed out as she began picking through the different foods. "I know the incident you speak of and I swear he was more stubborn than I. If I didn't know better, I'd say he genuinely hated me."

He smirked. "You'd be right," he admitted. "Snape hated the Golden Trio. He couldn't stand that you were always helping Longbottom with his work. But you still fought the bastard. I honestly thought he had caved." She shook her head and he shrugged. "At least you tried."

"I just hope Kingsley and the Wizengamot aren't as stubborn."

(III)(III)

The rest of the party had been amazing. The cake had been delicious and the group of friends had finally begun to catch up. "We should chill some time, Malfoy," Zabini had said as they were getting ready to leave.

All in all, Draco couldn't imagine a better success than the night of his birthday. Or a more remembered one. He could still taste her lips on his. How had he managed to kiss her not just once, but twice in one night? Not a date his left butt cheek! She had looked so beautiful dressed in that green party dress, too. And the way she had kept giving him surprise after surprise just made his fingers itch to hold her and never let her go. If he kept working at it, he figured they would be dating by the end of the week.

He reclined lazily in his armchair in front of the fireplace. His mother showing up at the party had been a nice touch and Granger's promises to free his father really hit him deeply. If she could manage it, Draco would end up eternally in her debt. Marriage would be the least he could do and he would willingly spend a live time paying her back.

It still amazed him that she was even speaking to him. Apparently all those times going to the Ministry and inviting her to lunch were working. He would have to continue.

"Maisey," he called and the elf appeared. He waved a hand in the air. "Granger mentioned that she wanted to be romanced… Well, sort of." He sat up and look at the elf. "Weasel breath asked her to a Quidditch match between the Canons and Puddlemore. I know she doesn't want to go and even said as much. She wants romance and I intend to give it to her."

"Shall Maisey send another boutique of flowers?"

The wizard shook his head. "No. If we keep sending her flowers, it will only confuse her. No, I need something more." Standing, he began pacing the front of the fireplace when the fire turned green.

"Malfoy?" Nott called as his head appeared in the flames. "Do you have a few?"

Nott had spent an entire year sharing a dormitory with Granger. While Draco was jealous, he also knew he could utilize his friend's knowledge. "Yeah, come on over," he said, taking a step back to give his friend room.

Nott pushed the rest of the way into the room and dusted himself off. The dark haired man sat in the armchair Narcissa often occupied and gave Draco a quirk of his brow. "So, Malfoy. Wicked party."

Draco shrugged as he returned to his seat. "What do you want, Nott?"

"Well, Zabini and I were talking after the party," his old friend explained, checking his nails. "I thought you said you weren't interested in Granger."

The blond licked his lips and looked away. "What makes you think otherwise?"

Nott shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. The party was a good indicator, though that was Granger's idea and from the looks of it, you had no idea what she had been planning. But then you snogged her. Unless you were trying to truly piss off Parkinson, it isn't hard to figure out."

"I don't give a damn about Parkinson," Draco growled. He looked at the elf. "Maisey, bring me a bottle of brandy and some glasses."

"That's exactly my point!" Nott said. "If you wanted to get with the girl, you could have just told me. I mean, I knew you fancied her, but…"

"How did you know that?" Draco interrupted, looking at his friend in surprise.

Nott raised an eyebrow again. "Seriously, Draco? I've known you since we were in diapers. I can't tell you how many times we sat in the boys' dorms listening to you bitching and moaning about 'Granger this,' and 'Granger that.' It grew even worse in third year and by fourth, things changed. I don't know what happened, but sometime either during or after the Yule Ball, you changed, mate. You still bitched, but there wasn't as much… venom, anymore. Things stopped for the most part and then in seventh year, you started on about her again, but nothing negative. I can't even remember the last time you called her a Mudblood."

Had he been that transparent? No wonder Crabbe had been pissed at him those last few months leading up to the final battle. "If you knew, then why did you make those comments about her that day?"

"I wanted to see your reaction," Nott said with a shrug. "I knew you still had it out for her. Figured I could push you in that direction." He smirked. "So, how did you get your mum to agree to it? I know your father hasn't a clue."

Draco stared hard at his friend for a long moment. Maisey returned with the brandy and poured a finger for each of the men before moving off to the side. Draco took his glass and downed it in one go. He grimaced and poured himself some more before he finally relaxed, leaning back in his chair.

"It wasn't easy," he admitted. "You know how my mother felt about Muggle borns. So, I started purposefully pointing out articles in the _Prophet_ that featured Granger. I needed her to begin seeing Granger as more than some filthy Mudblood in order for it to work."

Draco placed his glass on the side table next to his chair and stood. Crossing his study to his desk, he opened a drawer and took out a single picture. He returned to his chair and handed the picture to Nott. "Once I felt she was ready, I simply let her 'catch' me looking at that picture."

Nott looked at the picture, studying it for a few seconds before glancing at Draco. "How did you manage this?"

Draco shrugged. "There was this boy taking pictures and I saw him snap the shot. I simply paid for it."

Nott shook his head. "No, I mean, how did you manage to get Granger to dance with you and then snog you at the Yule Ball? Didn't she go with Krum?"

"Oh, that," the blond said with a smirk. "She went with Krum, but she really wanted to be there with Weasel. They had had a fight. It was sheer luck that I had decided to go out by that lake that night. Even luckier that Granger came by soon after. That part hadn't been planned, but it worked out well for me."

The dark haired wizard looked at the picture a bit more before handing it back to Draco. "It sounds like you have everything well under way. What's your goal?"

The blond licked his lips, looking down at the picture. Watching their first kiss never got old. "I want to marry her," he whispered.

Nott's eyebrows shot up as he stared at his friend. "And how are you going to convince your father to allow such a union without burning your name from the family tree?"

Draco gave a small smirk. "Well, Granger's already working on that one, isn't she? Father is going to owe her when she springs him from prison. And seeing that my mother can't have any more children, I don't see him disowning me any time soon. Worst case scenario, he'll deal with me until Granger has our first born and then name my child as his heir. By then, it won't matter much, will it?" he questioned as he cradled his drink.

"You're banking a lot on her agreeing to marry you," Nott pointed out.

"She will," Draco confirmed. "I'm the only man that's right for her. She knows it, she's just denying it right now. But she'll soon see."

"And how do you know Zabini or I won't try to steal her from you? Or worse, the Weasel could still take her back."

"You won't. And neither will Weasel," Draco explained, taking a swallow of his drink. He watched as Nott nursed his own drink, taking small sips from it. "Besides, you don't think she and I have already spoken about you? When she told me she had shared a dorm with you, I wanted to know how close you lot had gotten."

Nott chuckled. "You've it all planned out, don't you, Malfoy?"

"What can I say? It's something I've been thinking of since fourth year. I just wasn't sure if I would get the opportunity," he said.

"You're forgetting one thing, mate," Nott pointed out. "Granger's not just known as the brightest witch of our age because of a few Outstandings on some tests. The girl's got a brain in her head and it won't take her long to figure out what you're plotting."

Draco frowned. "I don't plan on hurting her. By the time she figures it all out, I'm hoping we'll be madly in love and married."

"Not if you keep doing it alone."

Draco's eyes glittered as he smiled mischievously. "Why, Nott, I was wondering when you'd get to that."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I love how Draco thinks he's got it all figured out. Such a Slytherin. I love him. *Giggles*

So, I figured I should answer a few of your comments because I do love receiving them and y'all have been awesome! (This part is new to me, so please bear with me. Usually I just thank everyone for their comments and be on my merry way.)

**Kats02980416:** Yeah. I figured Draco would constantly want to be around her. After all, he is trying to win her, right? What better way than showing up at her job and taking her out?

**LanaLee1: **Despite what this last little bit of chapter indicates, he is very genuine about his feelings in this. It's not just a plot to "save the family name". Of course, he's a Slytherin, so you know he's going to use as much as he can to his advantage.

**EchoWaves:** He's sooo not in control. He just likes to think he is. Just wait. It's going to get even better.

I keep thinking I should bring in some of Hermione's thoughts into this, but I'm really having too much fun writing it like this. Why would Hermione throw a birthday party for Draco? I mean, Harry I could understand because they're best friends and all that jazz.


	10. Chapter 10

He cupped her jaw and bent his head down to give her a slow, lingering kiss. His other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. To his surprise, she slipped her own arms around him and pulled him flush against her. He knew she could feel his erection, but he could tell she didn't care.

She trailed kisses down his chin. "Draco," she breathed, her voice full of pure lust. "I need you."

He growled, taking her face into his hands again and kissing her on the lips before burying his mouth into the crook of her neck. "Yesss…" she moaned as he sucked on the tinder flesh he found there.

He felt her hands fly across his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt. Once they were all done, he pulled the shirt off without breaking stride. His own hands went to her the zipper on the back of her emerald green dress while her fingers turned their attention to his belt and the button of his trousers.

As they continued their frantic pulling off of each other's clothing, he backed her towards the bed. When she tumbled back, their kiss broke, but only long enough for him to pull off his boxer briefs and join her on the bed. "I've waited so long for you," he whispered as he moved to hover over her.

She smiled up at him. "Well, let's not wait any longer," she returned.

Their love making was something Draco had never thought he'd ever experience. He was as gentle as he could be as he entered her for the first time. "I love you," he told her and then he groaned at the feel of her tightness.

"I love you, too," he heard her say in a masculine voice. "But I don't know what our parents would think. Sorry, mate, I just can't handle a bloke."

Draco's eyes flew open and he jumped up from the bed. His hard on was raging and Zabini stood by the bed laughing. "Fuck!" the blond wizard snarled. "Zabini, get out of my room before I hex your black arse!"

The dark skinned man continued laughing as he turned around and began walking towards the door. "Get dressed, Malfoy," he ordered over his shoulder. "And take care of that problem. You have a date in an hour."

Draco glared at his friend's back until the man closed the door. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he fisted his erection.

He threw his covers off of himself and duck walked to his bathroom, still working his cock. Entering the bathroom, he stood over the toilet and shut his eyes tightly, picturing the look on Hermione's face in his dream. He envisioned her curls and the way they tumbled onto his emerald silk sheets. He let his release empty into the toilet, though he knew it hadn't all landed there. Sighing, he flushed it and went into his shower.

It didn't take him long to shower and dress. When he entered his study, he saw his mother and Zabini sitting at the fire, drinking tea. Maisey was serving them crumpets. He watched them for a moment as he noticed something different, though he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Is that a new dress?" he asked startling both of them and causing them to look up at him.

Narcissa gave a small blush. "Why, yes, it is, darling. Do you like it? I thought I would wear something nice for your father since Blaise told me that we would be going to the prison today for a visit."

The dark skinned man rolled his head to crack his neck and opened his eyes. "I told you, Cissy. We're not going to the prison," he said patiently. He glanced up at his friend. "The Aurors won't allow people into the prison itself, which is completely understandable. However, there's a building right on the shore where prisoners are processed, etcetera, and that is where you'll be going." He gave Draco an emotionless smile that reminded the blond of a grimace more than anything. "I won't be going with you. I have business to attend in Wales today. However, Miss Granger will be there, and since she was the one who arranged this meeting, it's only fitting that she sees it through."

Granger was going to be there? Is that what Zabini had meant by Draco having a date? He opened his mouth to speak, but Zabini cut him off, "You're to meet Miss Granger in her office and she'll take it from there."

"Are we allowed to bring anything, love?" Narcissa asked as she handed her teacup and saucer to Maisey.

Zabini frowned in thought. "I'm not sure? I don't think so, but you might want to check with Miss Granger first. There's been rumor of people bringing books to their loved ones, but Lucius is a special case."

"Why is he so special?" Draco asked as he raised an eyebrow.

This time, the dark skinned man did smirk. "Well, he was the Dark Lord's right arm, wasn't he?"

"Not by the end of the war," Draco pointed out. "If anything, the Dark Lord favored Severus Snape far more than my father. In fact, by the time the last battle occurred, the Dark Lord had my father wandless and groveling."

"Oh, Draco, shush!" his mother hissed. "Your father didn't grovel."

Draco wanted to rebuke her words, but as he glanced at the clock on the mantel, he realized they didn't really have the time. "I suppose we should head to the Ministry. No doubt Granger's waiting impatiently for us."

Zabini snickered at that and the three of them began their way out of the study.

(II)(II)

The moment Draco saw Granger, he smiled. She was wearing an Easter green business suit and looked positively glowing. "Hello, love," he greeted.

She smiled brilliantly at him and gave him a hug which he readily returned. He allowed her to slip past him so she could greet his mother. He watched as the witches touched cheeks.

"Oh, Narcissa, you look lovely!" Granger complimented as her eyes ran the length of his mother's dress. "Is it new?"

"Of course it is, darling," Narcissa said with a smile. "I couldn't very well see my husband in last season's fashions. What ever would he think of me? Do you think he'll like it?"

Granger giggled. "I highly doubt Mr. Malfoy has any idea of what last season's fashions were, but I think he'll love it all the same. It's beautiful."

"You look lovely yourself. Hoping to impress my husband, my dear?" Narcissa teased.

Granger gave a short, ladylike sniff and shook her head in denial. "Never, though considering how much his son has been fawning over me, I do hope he won't think too poorly of me by the time we leave his presence."

"I don't fawn over you," Draco argued, frowning.

Both of the women giggled at that and Granger waved a dismissive hand at him. "If believing that helps you sleep better at night, by all means, don't let me convince you differently." The sparkle in her eyes made him even warier.

"So, when do we leave?" he asked as he sat in one of the chairs at her desk.

Granger snapped her fingers. "Right! Harry will come get us shortly and take us to the holding building. That's the building where we'll see your father. We can't bring our wands, for obvious reasons, so I have a small safe here in the office were we can keep them for the time being."

"I'm not leaving my wand in your office," Draco protested.

"Then you're not seeing your father," Granger said simply. The two stared at one another for a moment before she sighed, "Draco, Harry and I went through a lot of trouble arranging this. Your father is a high security prisoner and the Wizangamot doesn't want to cut him any sort of slack. Mind, I think the entire Wizangamot are a bunch of idiots, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, until I can get your father out of that hell hole, we have to play by their rules. This isn't easy for me either. I am terrified of seeing your father without the safety of my own wand for protection."

"Oh, you don't have anything to fear, my dear girl," Narcissa said as she, too, sat in one of the chairs. "Lucius won't do anything to you."

Granger gave her a small smile. "Forgive me, Narcissa, but I find that hard to believe. I remember all too well the battle we had in the Ministry some four, four and a half years ago. He had no qualms attacking me then and I doubt he has any attacking me now," she said.

Neither of the Malfoys could find any argument with that, though Draco shook his head. "It's different now," he told her. "We're not in a war and you and I, we're…"

Both witches looked at him as Draco tried to find the right words. Granger frowned. "What are we, Draco?" she pressed.

He shrugged. "Well, I would hope I could say, I don't know, together?"

She raised her eyebrows. "When did that happen?" she asked. "I don't recall you properly asking me out. Sure you buy me flowers and sweets and take me to lunch, but you never once said anything to make it official."

His mind went to the two boutiques of flowers, but he hadn't put his name on them. "I never sent you flowers," he denied.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Draco, do you really think me an idiot? It didn't take me long to figure it out. You're not exactly subtle with your courting. The fact that you purposely pointed them out alone told me that you knew something about them." She gave him a soft smile. "I don't mind, you know. The flowers, the sugar quills. They were lovely gestures and more than any other bloke has ever done. Hearing you use Muggle terminology was a bit shocking, but immensely sweet. And watching you with Maisey…"

He blinked in shock. Had she actually noticed his efforts? He glanced at his mother who was giving him a knowing look. "I…" he turned his attention back to the bushy haired witch and felt his courage begin to swell. "Would you be my girlfriend?" he tried, fearing her next words.

Her smile widened. "Why, Draco, I thought you'd never ask!" she giggled and he chuckled. She looked around her office. "Merlin, I thought I would have to paint my entire office green before you got the hint." She gave Narcissa a longsuffering look. "I swear I've worn more green this past week than ever. Are all men this dense?"

Narcissa laughed. "Unfortunately," she said. "It took me ages with his father. You wouldn't believe the lengths I had to go through to get him to just notice me."

"Really?" Granger asked. "As beautiful as you are? I would've thought he'd have snatched you up the first chance he got."

"Yes, so did I," the matron Malfoy joked. "It ended up being my own father who pointed out my attributes to him during a Christmas gathering before Lucius decided to grace me with his presence."

Granger shook her head in surprise as they heard knocking on the door. She looked up. "Come in," she said and they watched as Potter entered the room.

"About ready, 'Mione?" the be speckled wizard asked, looking at the two Malfoys. It was quite clear that he didn't want to be there.

Granger smiled. "Just about. We were just gathering our wands," she said as she moved around the desk and held out her hand to Draco.

He eyed her hand for a moment before taking his wand out and placing it into her palm. Narcissa willingly gave her wand to the Muggle born as well and Granger took out her own wand before going back around her desk, opening a drawer, and placing them inside. "This safe is magically encoded to recognize my fingerprint alone," she explained to the other three as she wordlessly set the wards to the drawer. She looked up at Potter. "Is there anything else we need to know?"

He nodded. "Do you have any Knuts on you?" he asked her.

Granger frowned for a moment before picking up her small handbag and opening it. "I think I do," she said as she dug around it.

Potter nodded. "Dean Thomas created a sort of wizard vending machine and we have one in the meeting room where the three of you will meet Mr. Malfoy. It works the same as Muggle vending machines, mostly, so I figure if any of you get hungry or thirsty, you can use that. It only takes Knuts, though, I'm afraid. Dean's working on one that recognizes Sickles as well, but honestly, Sickles aren't really necessary."

Granger nodded as she picked Knuts out of her purse and put them on her desk. "Is there a limit to how much we bring?" she asked.

"I wouldn't do more than about ten per person," Potter suggested. "So, forty? And you can't take your purse, either, Hermione."

She looked up at him for a moment, then sighed. "Fine. Draco, would you mind carrying the Knuts in your pocket?" she asked.

The Pureblood wizard stared at the money for a moment. "I have money, Hermione," he told her.

"I never said you didn't," she returned. "But we don't need Galleons to see your father."

Draco glowered, but took the money and stuffed it in his pocket. "You will show us how to use this vending machine, right? I'd read about them in _Muggle Things and Their Uses_, but I've never seen them used."

She smirked. "You're adorable," she teased as she stood up and walked around the desk again.

"I never thought I would hear those words come from your mouth in reference to Malfoy," Potter said sourly.

Granger popped the black haired man on the chest. "Be nice, Harry!" she warned. "He's going to see his father today."

Potter looked at Narcissa. "I apologize, Mrs. Malfoy," he said. "I keep forgetting why we are here."

She gave a derisive sniff and held her head up high. "It is fine, Mr. Potter," she replied. "Just try to keep the old school rivalries down to a minimum, if you will, please. You aren't children anymore, after all."

Draco smirked. "Yes, and since Hermione and I are dating now…"

"Draco Lucius, that goes for you as well!" Narcissa hissed, glaring at her son who had the intelligence to look sheepish.

Potter's wide eyes went to Granger and she blushed. "He's joking?" he asked and as she slowly shook her head, he paled. He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Hermione…"

She glared at him. "Don't you dare go on some long winded talk about Draco not being right for me, Harry Potter! We haven't the time. I've no doubt the Aurors are just itching for a reason to deny this visit," she surmised.

Potter gave a single nod and opened the office door. "Ladies first," he offered, sweeping a hand to indicate they should go.

Narcissa stood, lifted her head regally, and walked out the door. Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed with a huff. As Draco stood to go, Potter held the door slightly closed and glared at the blond Pureblood. "Listen to me and listen to me closely, Malfoy," he sneered quietly, pointing a finger at Draco. "I don't know what your intentions are with my friend, but if I find out you hurt her…"

"Spare me the lecture, Potter," Draco growled as he pushed past the man. "If you want to talk to someone about hurting Granger, talk to Weasley."

As Draco stepped up to the women, he slipped a hand around Granger's waist and kissed the top of her head. "What was that about?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he told her. He knew that wouldn't be good enough for her, so he dipped his head to make his lips close to her ear and whispered, "We'll talk later, I promise."

(III)(III)

Draco looked around the small room they were led into. There wasn't much in the way of furnishings aside from a plain table and four folding chairs. In the corner sat the vending machine Potter had spoken of, stocked with various candies, crisps, and what Draco assumed were cans of drink? To his relief, Potter didn't join them, however, Draco continued to hold Granger by the waist, more because it was a silent comfort than anything. This would be the first time he would see his father since the war and Draco was a bit nervous. His mother started anxiously pacing the length of the room, looking at the door opposite of the one they had used.

"It'll be alright, Narcissa," Granger reassured, though she didn't move from Draco's grasp. To him, that spoke of her own nervousness.

The door started to open and Narcissa froze, staring at it. Draco and Granger both looked at the door as well, but with apprehension. They watched with bated breath as Lucius was led into the room by no less than four. Shackles were attached to his ankles and a pair of handcuffs kept his hands visible in front of him. His hair looked as though it hadn't been washed in over a week and his black and white striped prison robes were dingy. He kept his eyes downcast as the Aurors moved him to a chair.

"You have an hour, Lucius Malfoy," one of the Aurors said as they began straightening up to leave.

"Wait!" Granger interrupted, pulling out of Draco's embrace and walking closer to the Aurors. "You forgot to take off his handcuffs."

One of the Aurors looked at her and Draco thought he recognized the man. "Miss Granger…"

"Cut the crap, Seamus, before you even start," she snapped and pointed to Lucius. "This man hasn't seen his family in two years. The least you could do is give him the mobility to properly hug them."

"If he tries to harm you, Harry would…"

"He's not going to hurt me," she told him. "And even if he tried, I highly doubt his wife or son would let him."

The man gave an exasperated sigh and stepped up to Lucius again, unlocking his handcuffs. He handed the cuffs to Granger. "If you need us, all you have to do is shout," he told her.

Draco knew this wasn't standard protocol and he didn't even know what the protocol was. He watched in amazement as the Aurors left the room, shutting the door behind them. His attention turned to the witch who had made all of this possible. "How?" he mouthed to her.

She smiled and averted her eyes to look at Malfoy senior. When Draco looked up at his father, he was shocked by the state the man was in. For a while, the man didn't move, then slowly, he picked his head up and glanced about the room. His eyes rested on Narcissa and he stood. He took a step towards her and she rushed to him, throwing her arms around him as he returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair.

As his parents held onto one another, Draco inched his way towards them. "Father?" he whispered hesitantly.

Lucius lifted his head to look at his son. Grey eyes that matched his own stared at Draco with something akin to longing. Breaking away from his wife just barely, Lucius approached his son. They stared at one another, Lucius's hand clasped in Narcissa's. Draco could see the water in his father's eyes, though no tears were shed. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Lucius croaked.

Draco's lips pinched together as his eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head before pulling his father into a hug. "I could never do that," he admitted.

Draco saw his mother standing behind his father. While Lucius did not shed tears, she did. He could tell that she was happy to see father and son reunited. They did not hug nearly as long as his parents had and when they broke away, Lucius pulled his wife closer, wrapping his arm around her waist.

No one said anything for a long while and Draco discreetly lifted a hand to scratch the edge of his eye. He rubbed at his eye. "The air in here is really dusty," he complained, breaking the silence.

Chuckles echoed through the room as both of his parents looked at him in amusement. He heard a small giggle and turned his attention to the witch who had made it all possible. He wasn't the only one who had noticed her and he watched in surprise as his father lunged at the witch.

Granger took a step back as Lucius fell face first onto the cold cement. "Filthy Mudblood bitch!" he snarled as he scrambled to his feet.

"Father!" "Lucius!" Both son and mother chided at the same time.

Despite the Pureblood's outburst, Granger remained calm. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy," she greeted. She studied him for a moment before she continued, "They aren't doing a lot to take care of you, are they? When was the last time you were able to shower properly?"

Her genuine concern touched Draco deeply. The elder Malfoy sneered at her, but Narcissa stepped in the way, bending down to help him up. "Get ahold of yourself, Lucius, you're acting like a child," she scolded as he managed to get back on his feet.

He pointed an accusing finger at Granger and growled, "That bitch is the reason I'm in this blood hell hole!"

Again, the Muggle born was calm. "Actually, Mr. Malfoy, I had nothing to do with it. If anything, I was completely against it. "

"In fact, Granger's trying to work on an appeal to get you out of here," Draco explained moving to stand beside the Gryffindor. He lifted a hand to touch the small of her back, but stopped himself.

Lucius saw the movement and his eyes narrowed. "What's this?" he demanded, indicating the two of them with a wave of his hand.

Draco paled as he glanced down at Granger, but she looked back at him expectantly, almost challenging him. He licked his lips and swallowed. "Well, uh…"

"Draco and Miss Granger are courting," Narcissa said happily, beaming at her husband. "Isn't it lovely, darling?"

The last time Draco had seen his father so angry was when he had attempted to make a pyramid out of his father's Cuban cigars. The young Malfoy actually took a few steps back, out of easy reach, but Lucius stayed rooted to the spot. "I was already making arrangements with Everard Greengrass regarding his youngest daughter."

"Yes, you made them and I ended them," Narcissa said simply, earning a scowl from her husband.

"Narcissa, Astoria would have been an asset to this family…"

"Astoria would have brought more shame to us, Father," Draco retorted. "I don't think there was a bloke in Slytherin House who hadn't been with her at least once."

"Hufflepuff, too, if I recall," Granger piped. When the three Purebloods looked at her, she shrugged. "Of course, that part could have just been a rumor, Lavender was ever the gossip."

Lucius frowned. "That still doesn't explain why you would think a Mudblood would make an acceptable wife for our only son," he snapped, looking accusingly at his wife.

"Oh, darling, they're in love!" Narcissa gushed. Granger opened her mouth to protest, but Narcissa continued, "And why wouldn't she be acceptable? First in her year, brightest witch of her age, and, honestly, darling, do you really think Mr. Potter would have been able to defeat the Dark Lord without her help? Besides, you know she's going to be able to get you out of here. She managed to convince the Minister to allow Draco and I to come see you, even though you are so heavily guarded."

He stared down at her before looking at Granger. Eyes narrowed, he released his wife and slowly approached the Muggle born. The chains at his feet clinked as he moved and Draco tightened his grip on the girl. "Father…"

Lucius's eyes shot to Draco's and back to Granger's. She didn't cower, but stood tall and proud against him. He towered over her and was even taller than his own son. He looked down at her. "You don't deserve him," he said simply. He glanced up at his son. "I won't have my only child turn into a blood traitor."

"I'll talk to the Minister about allowing you a proper shower," she responded, her eyes narrowed. "As for whether I deserve your son or not, you might want to ask him. He was the one who pursued me, after all."

"And you forget the fact that you were courting a Muggle before I convinced you that I was the better choice," Narcissa chimed. "Or did you court me because you failed in getting a Muggle to marry you?"

Now, that tidbit did surprise Draco. He'd never heard this story. "What Muggle?" he asked. "And how come I never knew?"

"It isn't spoken of," Lucius glowered, giving his wife a withering look.

"It was quite the scandal," Narcissa said with a small giggle. "Right after he finished Hogwarts, he started talking to some Muggle tart. Wasn't she from the royal British line? This was before he became a Death Eater, mind."

Lucius glared at his wife. "I was talking to the Muggle tart because I was becoming a Death Eater," he explained, tiredly.

Narcissa sniffed. "Rubbish. You became a Death Eater because the Muggle turned you down. You couldn't understand why any woman would deny a Malfoy what he wanted, even though your father had been against it."

Granger sighed. "Look, Mr. Malfoy. I don't need your approval. Draco sought me out, not the other way around. He's a grown man now and as he wants to date me and I want to date him, we'll date. Whatever he and I decide will happen in our relationship is between Draco and me. It has nothing to do with you."

"Oh, it has everything to do with me, Miss Granger," he said softly, lifting his hand and touching her cheek with the back of his fingers.

She snatched her face away from his reach. "No, it doesn't," she argued. "And don't touch me again, Mr. Malfoy."

He lifted an eyebrow and glanced at his son. Draco frowned at the display as he pulled Granger closer to him. Lucius dropped his hand. "Of course," he said, his tone changing. He turned and went back to his wife, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close to him. "You'll learn soon enough, Miss Granger," he said as he kissed the top of his wife's head. "Draco and Narcissa may run the estate at the moment due to my incarceration, but it won't always be so. Twenty years or thirty, I'll be free eventually."

Granger nodded, showing no fear. "Yes, sooner if I can manage it."

"And you will, love," Draco said with confidence. Draco watched his father carefully as his parents looked at one another and shared a kiss. If he wanted to marry Granger, he would have to step up his game. He knew Granger well enough that he also knew his father wouldn't be in Azkaban for much longer.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Lucius is so evil. Wonder what he's got planned... Guess we'll have to read and find out, huh? Oh! And I can't wait to see what Harry wants to say to Hermione. I smell trouble there. On to comments!

**Kats02980416:** Not so daft, huh? I think a little while later I may introduce other characters thoughts and feelings into the story. For now, though, it's a bit more interesting with just Draco. Though, honestly, it was never my intention to make Hermione seem ignorant. Just... heartbroken. I mean, her boyfriend did break up with her thinking she had cheated on him. Maybe she just simply didn't want to acknowledge Draco's feelings quite yet? Draco has been coming onto her rather strong...

**SmileSimplify: **See? That's the irony in Hermione's situation. You'll learn more about her last time at Hogwarts (maybe). She really does have more in common with the Slytherins than she did with people in her own House. Especially with the three "Princes". Last story I wrote, Blaise was my villain. I wanted to show him and Theo in a more positive light this go round. And OH! I have plans for Mr. Goyle. You'll be seeing him, I promise.


	11. Chapter 11

"What the bloody hell are you thinking, Hermione?" Harry demanded as sat down in one of the chairs in Hermione's office.

She gave him a patient look before letting her eyes fall back on the parchment she had been reading. A soft smile played on her lips at the suggestion the parchment was making. Or, rather, the suggestion the author of the parchment was making. She glanced back up at Harry and frowned at his sour glare. "What is it that you want, Harry?" she asked, waving a hand over the various parchments on her desk. "As you can see, I'm very busy."

"Are you seriously dating that wanker?" he asked.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "I know what you're about to say and you can stop right there," she told him as she gazed up into his green eyes. "We were children back then and he was untainted by the horrors of war, we all were. Then the war happened and... He's… changed."

He shook his head and gestured at her. "Would you listen to yourself? This is Malfoy we're talking about. He's…"

"Changed, Harry," she interrupted. "We've gotten to know one another more and the more I learn, the happier I've become."

"What of Ron?"

Hermione's eyes blazed at that. "What of him?" she growled, sitting up straight. "Malfoy sends me a boutique of flowers unexpectedly, without my knowledge and Ron automatically assumes I've been cheating on him! And that's not the first time I've been accused. First he takes forever to ask me out and when he does, it seems more of a chore than genuine. The ONLY things he really wants to do is go to dinner or the latest Quidditch match and I swear, a grindylow has more romance in its tentacles than Ron has in his whole being."

"You know he gets nervous around you," Harry protested.

The Muggle born shook her head. "It doesn't matter anymore," she told him. She looked defeated as she sighed and visibly slumped in her chair. "He's never there for me when I need him, but Merlin forbid if I'm not there for him. At least Draco and I talk."

"He's going to hurt you, Hermione," he warned, pushing up his glasses with his forefinger.

"You don't know that, Harry," she said, looking at him.

"I know what he is, Hermione."

"And what is he?" she asked, sitting back in her chair with her arms folded.

Both of his eyebrows shot above his hairline. "He's a Death Eater, or at least a former one. Not to mention, his family are some of the most conservative Purebloods in all of Britain. Do you honestly think his father will condone this relationship? You know he'll never marry you."

"Harry!" she chided, looking scandalized.

He continued, "And in case you've forgotten, he's a Slytherin. There's a reason he was considered one of the Princes of Slytherin. What do you think he's going to want from you after dating for so long? And when you don't deliver? He'll either dump you or rape you."

"Harry James Potter!" she shouted, standing up and stamping her foot. "How dare you! You don't know that. Draco may have been a Death Eater, but he never killed anyone. He never wanted anything Voldemort forced him to do. And yes, he may have been 'the Prince of Slytherin', or one of them, but he does have morals. Draco's a gentleman and would never force himself on me!" She sobered a little. "As for marriage…" She looked down at the desk and lost some of her steam. She couldn't find much of an argument to that claim.

She knew he had alluded to the idea during their meeting with Lucius, but would he ever actually go through with it? It's not like he had asked her. "We don't even know each other well enough," she admitted. "At least, not well enough for those kinds of questions."

Harry sighed as he sat back. "Think about it, Hermione. Think long and hard. Yes we were children when he tormented us in school, but history doesn't change and the best indicator of future behavior is past behavior. Is that really what you want?"

She scowled at him. "Why can't you just give him a chance?" she asked. "Let him show you that he's changed."

He looked at her for a long moment. "So, that's it then? You're completely through with Ron? You've moved on with Malfoy?" At her nod, he gave another sigh. "Then I suppose that's that then."

Her eyes watered and he stood up and walked around her desk. He held out a hand and helped her to stand before wrapping his arms around her. "I don't like it. I truly hate him, but I love you more, Hermione," he said then made eye contact with her. "As long as he makes you happy, I won't interfere. You're the sister I never had and I will destroy anyone who purposely harms you."

She gave him a watery smile. "Thank you, Harry."

He stepped out of their embrace and gave her a soft smile. Then, his eyes brightened. "Oh, I almost forgot. Ginny and I will be having a dinner at Grimmauld Place Friday evening. You're invited as we have some news we'd like to share."

"Will I be allowed to bring Draco?" she asked, uncertainly.

He stared at her for a long moment. "You can," he said after a long pause. "But if he tries anything, I will hex him."

She giggled at that. "I'll make sure he behaves himself," she assured him.

(II)(II)

"You want to take her horseback riding?" Nott asked carefully as he gave Draco a funny look.

Draco shook his head. "Not just with any horses, Nott," he explained. "I'm going to take her to the stable we own out in Ireland. I think she'd enjoy riding pegasi."

The dark haired Slytherin shrugged as he fixed himself two fingers of Draco's brandy. "Sure, if she wasn't afraid of flying."

Draco's mouth dried at that. "I didn't know," he said as he tried to think of something else they could do. What person was afraid of flying?

Nott smirked. "Yes, I know you didn't know. That's why you have me to help you figure out what you should do with her."

Zabini entered the room from the bathroom, zipping up his fly. "Ever thought of trying something Muggle?" he asked curiously. "Or maybe taking her to the theatre? I do believe she likes those sinama things, with the large moving picture with sound?"

"Cinema," Draco corrected, shocking the two men. He shrugged. "I could take her to one of those, but I don't know what's playing."

Nott tilted his head for a moment. "Well, one of us could always pop into Muggle London and pick up a Muggle newspaper. I would think there would be a list in there."

Zabini snapped his fingers and pointed at Nott. "Good thinking. A nice dinner and the cinema actually sounds like a perfect date," he said.

Draco smirked. "Maybe you can bring Johnson and make it a double date?" he suggested.

The black skinned man rolled his eyes. "For the thousandth time, Johnson and I are not dating," he growled. "We work together and sometimes I take her out to lunch. It's like when Theo or I go to Granger's office or offer to take her to lunch. Nothing has or ever will happen between us."

"When have you taken Granger to lunch?" Draco asked a bit peeved.

"We used to all the time before you showed up," Zabini stated with a shrug. "The Weasel wasn't a very good boyfriend and I hated passing by her office and seeing her alone."

Nott nodded in agreement. "I'm with you, mate," he said. "There were so many times I wanted to throttle the prat."

Draco smiled. "Yes, well, now she's very well taken care of."

"Good thing, too," Nott told him. The dark haired man leaned against the table in the study. He lifted his glass to his lips as he added, "She was dangerously close to marrying that blood traitor, Weasley."

"Speaking of, when do you intend on popping the question, Malfoy?" Zabini asked as he fixed his own drink. "While dating is fun, I can't imagine you lasting long just wanking every night."

Draco frowned and took a pull from his drink. He grimaced and glanced down at the drink. "I'm not sure. Figured I'd give it a month or two, let her get used to dating me first," he told them both.

"Too long," groaned Nott.

"I agree," Zabini said, taking a pull from his drink as well. "A month, maybe, but two? That's just masochistic."

Nott nodded, but Draco argued, "If I make it too soon, she'll think it's a set up."

"It is a set up," Nott pointed out. "You want to marry her, and you need to marry her before your father gets out of prison."

"The sooner you consummate your union, the better," Zabini advised.

Draco stared at his brandy in thought. He wanted his father out of that hell hole, the sooner the better, but he knew his friends were right. Seeing his father again only served to remind him of the prejudice imbedded within their family.

"He almost married a Muggle, did you know?" he told his friends.

The two glanced at one another and then at Draco. Nott pursed his lips. "Father might have mentioned it once," he admitted, earning a stunned look from Draco. The dark haired man shrugged. "Don't look so surprised, Malfoy. According to Father, your father wasn't the only one. Something about infiltrating the royal line."

Draco sighed. "I don't know how long it's going to take Granger to free my father," he confessed. "You're right, though. I'll need to marry her before it happens."

"And consummate," Zabini pointed out and Draco glowered at him.

"What's it to you, Zabini? Why are you so anxious for me to get into her knickers?"

The black man rolled his eyes. "Or don't consummate. See if I care. But for every day you don't, you give your father an opportunity to have the marriage annulled."

Draco frowned. "He couldn't. He would need both of our signatures and consent."

"He doesn't need your consent to rape her," Zabini pointed out and Draco's eyes widened. "She's a virgin, Draco. All he would need is proof that she had been unfaithful to you and it would be as though the marriage never took place."

Nott caught on quickly and sneered. "And what better proof than to have her virgin blood on his own dick."

"He wouldn't."

"No?" Zabini argued. "And you can be sure of that? You know he's done it in the past, thanks to the Dark Lord. Didn't he confess as much to your mother? It wouldn't be below him to do it again to protect his own son from 'Mudblood filth'."

Draco sighed. They were right. He would have to marry her sooner and he would have to make sure their marriage was consummated. Well, the latter was easy once they gave their vows to one another. They would honeymoon the night of their wedding and he would make sure she was filled with his seed. Maybe one will even take fruit? He could just envision Granger impregnated with his offspring. She would make such a wonderful mother.

"Master Draco, sir," piped Maisey as she came into the room, breaking his trance. She bowed her head to the three wizards and announced, "Miss Granger is here, sir. Would Master Draco like Maisey to bring her in here?"

Draco smiled. "Yes, Maisey. Bring her here and make us some sandwiches and tea."

"Yes, sir, Master Draco, sir," the elf said before she vanished out of the room.

He looked at his friends as his smile turned into a smirk. "Speak of the she-demon and she appears," he joked.

Both of his friends shared puzzled expressions, but he ignored them as Hermione stepped into the room. "Hello, love," he greeted as he met her at the door and pulled her into an embrace.

He bent his head down to kiss her tenderly on the lips. When she returned his kiss, sighing into his mouth, he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, darting his tongue out to swipe along her bottom lip.

"Get a room," Nott joked.

Breaking the kiss, Draco looked at his friend and smirked. "We will," he promised and he laughed when Granger slapped his chest lightly.

"Draco!" she reprimanded.

He turned his attention back to her, silver eyes meeting honey, and quirked a brow. "I believe I did say something about you hitting me."

She touched the buttons on his shirt with her fingertips, making her fingers "walk" up to his collar and she smiled. "Yes, but that was before we started dating," she commented. "And I didn't hit you in anger… well, not true anger." Her smile turned devious as she added, "Planning to punish me now, Draco? Isn't that what you do with a bad girl?"

His eyes widened and he nearly choked on his own saliva. The other two Slytherins burst into laughter as he forced down the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "Play with fire, witch, and you will get burned," he managed to croak. Even in his own ears the threat sounded weak.

She giggled as she twirled out of his embrace. He silently reminded himself that she was, in fact, a virgin. Inwardly, he groaned. This was going to be a long courting process, he knew. His friends were right. He would have to propose to her and soon.

"What brings you to the Manor, love? I thought we were going to meet in your office to go out to lunch?" he asked as she sashayed towards the other two Slytherins.

She pivoted in one spot and took a delicate seat on the arm of Draco's chair. How she knew that was his chair, he hadn't the foggiest, but damn if she didn't look sexy. And she was wearing green again.

"I thought I would surprise you," she told him, honestly. She glanced at the other two Slytherins. "I would like if you two joined us as well. I've already spoken to Narcissa and she's coming, too. She had to run and change real fast. Figured we'd go to the Three Broomsticks."

Draco frowned. "Are you sure your lunch hour will allow for that?" She simply gave him a smile and a wink, causing him even more confusion. What was his witch planning now?

Blaise shrugged. "I could use a quick butterbeer. Maybe some fish and chips, too," he said, smiling at the Gryffindor.

She beamed at Blaise and then looked expectantly at Theo. The dark haired man sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," he agreed. "But you're not paying this time, Granger."

"Of course not," she chuckled, pressing her hand to her chest in mock outrage. She giggled, "Draco is."

As his friends laughed, Draco stared at her. He then glared at his friends. "You're paying for your own meal," he snarled, causing Granger to giggle some more.

She rubbed his shoulder. "You shouldn't be so cruel to your friends, Draco," she teased.

He frowned at her. "You speak as if they're paupers!" he accused. "Zabini and Nott both have enough money each they could both buy their own pubs three times over, if not more."

"Oi!" Nott shouted, putting his drink down.

Zabini lifted a single eyebrow and downed the rest of his drink. Placing it beside Nott's, he looked at the blond. "I do believe you've been around Miss Granger much too long, Draco. You're becoming quite bold."

"That's not from being around her," Draco argued, pulling the Muggle born closer to him.

She smiled up at him as his mother walked into the room.

(III)(III)

Draco plopped down in his armchair and sighed heavily. The outing had been great and nothing pleased him more than seeing his mother and his girlfriend getting along so well. Something in him told him that he should probably question it, but he couldn't find the energy to much care. They were getting along. That was enough for him for now.

He thought of his next move. He still hadn't met her parents yet and his mother hadn't been successful in finding them. Honestly, how common was the name "Granger" in the Muggle world? It couldn't have been _that _common.

There was still work to be done, so he sighed and stood up from his seat. Going into his closet, he found a simple pair of jeans and a green polo shirt with the Slytherin crest on the upper left hand part of his chest. He kicked off his shoes, changed his clothes, and slipped on a pair of trainers. He stuck his wand down the side of his sock. Standing up straight, he glanced into the mirror. He smirked at the seemingly Muggle who stood looking back at him. The Slytherin shirt may have been a little much, but he didn't really care. He didn't really have any Muggle clothes, something he was looking to correct today.

Maybe he could find a directory…

(IV)(IV)

A couple hours later, Draco stormed into his room and slammed his purchases onto his bed. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he threw it into the fire. "Nott Manor!" he shouted. The moment the flames turned green, he stuck his head within them. "Theo!"

He saw his friend coming towards the fire. "Draco? Everything alright, mate?" he asked, drawing closer.

"Yeah. Come through," the blond said as he stepped out of the fire and back into his room.

Moments later, Nott entered the room followed closely by Zabini. Draco raised an eyebrow. "You two are spending a lot of time together," he commented as he crossed his room to his bed. He started to grab a handful of the clothes he had purchased, but Maisey popped up and took them herself. Draco sighed and offered her a smile. "Make sure you don't mix those with my regular clothes, Maisey."

"Yes, sir, Master Draco, sir," she said as she Apparated with the clothing to his closet.

Draco gave his friends a roll of his eyes.

"What is it you wanted, Malfoy?" Nott questioned.

The blond licked his lips as he moved to the side table next to his armchair by the fire and fixed himself a finger of firewhiskey. "Well, as you both know, I've been working to woo Granger," he was saying as he lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip. He turned to them both and grimaced as the fiery liquid burned down his throat. He gave a short cough. "I'm thinking the next step is to invite her parents to brunch, but I can't seem to find them."

Both of his friends looked worriedly at one another and then back at Draco. "You haven't… tried to contact them, have you?" Nott asked carefully.

Bewildered, Draco frowned at them both. "Of course, I have," he told them.

"You shouldn't," Zabini cautioned.

Draco took another pull of his drink and his frown deepened. "They'll be my in-laws soon, won't they?" he reasoned. "Might as well get to know the people who raised her."

Nott shook his head as he joined Draco at the table. As he poured his own drink, he said, "It's not that simple, mate."

"You're not going to find them," Zabini said firmly, sitting in the chair opposite of his two friends. "And I wouldn't ask her about it, either."

"Why not?"

Zabini sighed and looked rather downcast. "She Obliviated them," he explained. Though his voice was soft and held emotion, he was rather blunt.

Draco's eyes widened as Nott clarified, "It was right before she and the other two went into hiding. She didn't tell us everything, but her parents currently live in Australia."

"She tried to bring them back, restore their memories, but she had cast Obliviate too strongly. Her plan was to keep the Dark Lord from finding them, but she ended up losing them in the process," Zabini finished.

Silence reigned as Draco let their words sink in. Granger had Obliviated her parents. He took another pull from his drink and sat down in the armchair he had been standing next to. No wonder she was so talkative with his mother earlier. "I need to talk to her," he whispered.

"Perhaps," Nott said slowly. "But I wouldn't bring it up to her. It would be best if she came to you about it."

"And I wouldn't try to leave 'subtle' hints, either," Zabini added. "She blames herself for what happened. If you mention them to her, she's liable to fall apart."

"Merlin knows she did it enough in the Common Room. In fact, I think Pansy mentioned once or twice about her crying in the dorm, too," Nott said.

The black man shook his head. "That wasn't over her parents. That was over the two girls she used to share her dorm with."

Draco looked at his friend curiously. "What two girls?" he asked.

Zabini shrugged. "What were their names? Patil and Brown?" he questioned, looking at Nott.

"I think so," the black haired man answered. He saw Draco's confusion and elaborated, "They both died in the Final Battle. Something else Granger blames herself for."

Draco frowned. "That wasn't her fault."

"Gryffindors," Nott responded with a shrug. "She couldn't save them, therefore in her logical mind, it was her fault."

"That's not logical," the blond pointed out.

Zabini gave a dark chuckle. "Yes, well, when you're the only one of your sex to be able to return for your final year… Patil's sister didn't return either, not because she was dead, but because she couldn't handle being there without her sister."

Nott snapped his fingers. "Didn't you date her, Zabini?"

The black man cracked a small smile. "Padma?" he asked. "Yes, and if I had it my way, we would be dating again. She was a sweet strumpet and for a Ravenclaw, she was quite feisty."

"What would Johnson think?"

Zabini frowned, looking at Nott. "Why would I care?" he asked. At Nott and Draco's looks, he rolled his eyes and grumbled, "For the last time, Johnson and I aren't dating. If you must know, she's been seeing George Weasley."

All three friends groaned. "Fucking paupers!" Draco hissed.

Nott waved a hand in the air. "Luck you were able to snag Granger, Draco," he said. "Seems every witch I talk to has some crush on a Weasley."

Zabini made a sour face. "Don't, Nott," he warned. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Draco wrinkled his nose, but tipped his glass towards Zabini, "You should watch Patil, then, if that's the case. Maybe ring her before she gets snatched."

The black man's eyebrows furrowed as he frowned. "She has no interest in any of them," he said assuredly. "We've already spoken about them. Apparently, Ronald had stiffed her during the Yule Ball and she's been sour towards the Weasley's ever since. Fought with them during the War and even joined Potter's crock club during fifth year, but it was more because she believed in the cause."

"The cause," Draco sniffed.

"Lucky for you, mate," Nott growled at Draco. "You forget Granger was part of that cause and because of it, you can actually marry her now."

"Only if I marry her before my father gets out of prison," Draco complained. "And I still haven't a clue how to breach it to her."

Zabini shrugged. "She's one of those 'modern women', mate. On a good note, you don't need her father's permission, but convincing her to interrupt her career life to get married? Not sure that's going to happen."

Nott shook his head. "She wouldn't have to give up her career. Just convince her that being married to you would be a benefit," he suggested. "Think of all the money she could pour into her research then."

Draco thought it over for a bit. "She would have access to the vault. She'd be able to pass laws, or help pass laws, to benefit the house elves and all the other things she wants to do. But how do I get her to say yes to marrying me?"

Zabini took out his wand and waved it in the air a few times, conjuring a single white rose. "So far, you've been on the right track. Have you told her you love her yet?"

"Working on it," Draco stated, pouring himself another firewhiskey.

"There's no work involved," Nott said patiently. "If you love her, tell her. Don't you have a date sometime this week?"

The blond nodded slowly and sipped his drink. "She sent me an owl earlier. We're having lunch tomorrow, like always, and she wanted to speak to me about something."

Zabini snapped his fingers. "That's when you tell her you love her. Then, give it a week or two, making sure you continue to say it as often as you can, then you can offer a proposal."

"But make sure you punctuate your feelings with a kiss or hug," Nott added.

Draco growled, "I know how to woo a girl."

"Then why are we having this discussion?" Zabini asked exasperated.

Draco shrugged. "I just wanted to know about her parents."

"What are you going to do about them?" the black man asked curiously.

Draco stared into his glass, thinking. What could he do about them? It was obvious Granger was seriously hurt by it if she was blaming herself. "I'll have to think on it more," he told them, a troubled look on his face.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Oooooo... So, how'd you like the little glimpse into Hermione's mind? Minuscule, I know, but there will be more. And I love the "advice" Blaise and Theo give Draco. Always the pureblood Slytherins. *Giggles*

**artlover8992: **Actually, I don't know who he was trying to marry. Rowling just stated something about him trying to get into the Muggle royal bloodline or something, so I thought I would bring that out. Really good selling point for Draco later, I think. Right?

**Kats02980416:** Oh, just wait. Lucius is going to get even creepier. Just remember, he would never do anything to hurt his family. (At least, not as far as I'm concerned. In my stories, he will always be a loving father and husband. Doesn't mean he has to love his son's choices in companionship.) It will be interesting to see what happens next, and they aren't even married yet!


	12. Chapter 12

Draco smirked as he entered Granger's office. He glanced down at his robes, checking to make sure they were perfectly in place, and looked up at the witch. His smirk grew as he saw she had not noticed him yet. Always studious, she was sitting at her desk, bent over several parchments, her quill working furiously as she wrote her notes.

"Honestly, Harry," she said, mistaken the person who had entered the room, "looking at these rulings, I don't see…" She looked up and her eyes widened. "You're not Harry."

"Well spotted," he praised and chuckled. "What are you working on?"

She sighed and threw her quill on her desk. "I've been reviewing your father's sentencing. These people were really stretching, I think. If I had been part of the committee of his defense, he would have gotten off. These charges are utterly ridiculous and hold absolutely no water."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why _weren't_ you on his defense committee?"

"I wasn't allowed. Regardless of whether I thought he was guilty or not, the fact that I was… Well, it's his Manor where we were sent…" she said, scrunching her eyebrows and unable to finish the thought. "At the time, the Weasleys were still mourning Fred. Actually, they still are, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I had some things I needed to take care of personally and when I failed on my mission…"

He frowned. "Your mission?" he repeated in question. He had a feeling he knew what she was talking about, and his suspicions were confirmed when she stared at the parchments, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Harry, Ron, and I had a mission that took us to Australia. We…" she sighed and he could see she was holding back her tears. She shook her head and began straightening the papers. "No matter. It was a fiasco and it's over now."

Draco approached her desk and touched her arm, stilling it. He looked down at her in concern. "Hermione? Is there something you want to talk about?" he asked softly.

Her honey eyes gazed up at him and he could see the tears threatening to spill. "I…" She pressed her lips together. Hardening her eyes, she looked away. "No. Thank you, Draco, but there's nothing to talk about. The past is the past and that is where it will stay."

He could literally feel her pain and it hurt him badly. He wanted to offer up something, anything. Words of encouragement or perhaps admiration for her strength, but he fell short. He remembered what it was like in the days that followed his father's incarceration. Nothing anyone said had meant anything to him. His father might as well have died for all the help their words had given him. It didn't take long for Draco to begin hating those people who tried to offer him condolences. It was why he had turned away from his friends.

He decided to change the subject. "I've a surprise for you," he told her. "Do you think you could put this aside for a couple hours and join me?"

She looked up at him and he gave her a smile. "Draco, I'm working on your father's case."

He nodded. "I know and for that, I'm eternally grateful, love," he claimed. "However, even the Minister takes a break from time to time. Join me. I promise you won't regret it." As she stood, he eyed her clothes. "What are you wearing under those robes?" he asked.

Thinking he was being lecherous, she gasped, "Draco!"

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. "I only meant to question whether you were wearing Muggle appropriate attire, love."

She pulled away from him so she could give him a baffled look. "Why would it matter?" she asked.

"Because we'll be going into Muggle London," he explained. "Thought I'd try a bit of Muggle cuisine. I read that they eat much of the same things we do, but it would be interesting to see, still. And…"

He was cut off as she reached up and kissed him fiercely on the lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck while his wrapped around her waist. He hadn't expected this sort of response, but he wasn't one to turn it down. He deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to run across her bottom lip before dipping between her teeth to meet her tongue. He didn't know how long they stood there, tasting, touching, and loving one another. The moment he felt himself wanting to take things further, he stopped. He knew she wanted to keep her virtue and he wanted to help her do just that.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. "You don't know how much I want you right now," he whispered against her lips.

"I want you, too," she whispered back, letting her hands fall to rest against his chest.

He opened his eyes. When had he closed them? A smile played on his lips. "I love you, Hermione," he told her.

His eyes met hers and he waited with abated breath for her response. Her eyes were searching his, studying him, looking for any fallacy in his statement. He knew she would find none, however. He had been working on this plan for far too long. Far too much of his heart, mind, and soul was invested in this moment.

"I love you, too," she breathed. His heart soared as she finished, "Draco Malfoy."

(II)(II)

They held hands as they walked through the streets of London. To Hermione's surprise, he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a green polo with a pair of trainers. Of course, the polo had a small Slytherin crest on the left chest where a pocket would be, but she didn't make too big a fuss about it.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he tugged her along.

They had eaten at a small Muggle diner. Hermione wished she had remembered to grab a menu from the place. Their salad had been quite delightful.

"King's Cross," he answered simply.

She became even more confused. She had asked him several times what he had planned. Thus far he had managed to dodge her questions. It was positively nerve-wracking.

As they entered King's Cross, he managed to surprise her more as he walked up to the ticket booth, bought two tickets and took her to the platform. "We're not in Hogwarts anymore," she told him.

He threw her a smirk. "We're not going to Hogwarts," he explained.

"Then where…"

He stopped as he checked the tickets one more time and then looked up at the platform numbers. "This is where we need to get on the train," he told her and began pulling her towards the train.

"Draco," she begged.

He paused again and looked at her. "Just trust me, love," he said, lifting up her hand and kissing the back of it.

"Cool tat, mate," a Muggle teenage boy piped up suddenly.

The couple turned their attention to the boy. At first, neither had any idea what he was talking about. Glancing down, however, Hermione saw Draco's exposed arm. Draco seemed to look down at the same time. He glanced back up at the boy. "Uh. Thanks," he said, though he wrinkled his nose.

The boy couldn't have been much older than sixteen. His blue hair and black clothes told Hermione that he was eccentric, to say the least. She also could see that he was getting ready to say more. She groaned as she pulled Draco away from the boy. "Let's go," she stated.

As they got on the train, Draco looked at her curiously. "What is it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He was going to ask you a million questions about your Mark, most of which you cannot answer truthfully," she explained. "Personally, I'd rather avoid that chapter in our lives." She glanced back at him and could see the troubled look in his eyes. She gave him a small smirk. "It is cool, though. Once you get past the significance of it."

"There is no getting past the significance of it," he grumbled.

They found a bench together and sat down. She looked at him. "You're right," she told him. "But one day, we'll need to… Look. I don't fault you for what happened. You were young, trying to fit into this world. You made some really bad choices, but…"

"We're the same age, Hermione," he said, looking at her. "You didn't make any bad choices."

She scoffed. "I pined over Ron Weasley," she pointed out. "I signed up to take Divination, too."

He nodded. "Yes, but those aren't nearly as grievous. While you were busy getting your heart trampled on, I was taking the Dark Mark and plotting to kill our headmaster," he said.

"Don't make what I went through sound so insignificant. What you did, you did to protect your family," she argued. "I, on the other hand, was rather selfish in pursuing someone who clearly wasn't as interested as I thought."

He frowned. "You make it sound like I was some sort of hero," he growled. "Yes, I didn't want my family to die, but it was just as much for me. The propaganda the Dark Lord fed me had me believing I could be as famous as Potter, even more famous. I would be remembered and feared."

Hermione looked down at their clasped hands. "Things are different now," she said with conviction. She glanced up at him. "You're not the same person you were back then. You've changed, become a better person. And… I love you."

He gave her a soft smile. He wanted so much to believe her, but he didn't. Sure he had done a few things differently, but he hadn't truly changed. He was still selfish, conniving. He was a Malfoy. He still lied and manipulated to get what he wanted. Hell, he did things that he had no real desire to do just to achieve his end goal. But he didn't tell her any of that. He just embraced her. Her head resting against his chest, he kissed the top of her hair and gazed out the window.

Hermione didn't know how long the train ride had been, but when they made it to the stop Draco wanted, Hermione checked her watch and groaned. It was a good thing she _wasn't_ planning to return to work today, she thought sarcastically. "So, where is this place?" she asked curiously.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You've asked that question over a dozen times now," he said as he began looking for a cab to hail. "I didn't answer you the first time, what makes you think I'll answer you now?"

"Isn't persistence something Slytherins value?" she questioned, her eyebrows lifted as he found a cab and waved it down. He really was going all out with the Muggle thing. "You know we could always just Apparate," she suggested slowly.

He smirked and opened the door for her. "Where's your sense of adventure, Granger?" he teased. "Aren't you supposed to be a Gryffindor or something?"

She groaned, but slid into the cab, making room for the blond Pureblood. Once they were both inside, Draco gave the cab driver a slip of paper. The driver took a look at the paper and nodded. "The Warmbloods are looking nice today. Heard they finally got that Thoroughbred under control, too."

Draco had no clue what the man was talking about, but he pretended to, nodding his head in agreement. Granger looked at him in surprise. "Horses? You're taking me to an equestrian center?"

The Pureblood frowned. "Those are horse breeds, aren't they?"

She nodded, glancing at the driver. A smile played on her lips as they drove towards the center. She was a bit angry with him for dragging her out of her office, but at the same time, she was suddenly a bit excited. She remembered horseback riding when she was a girl, but it had been so long… "I'm surprised you thought of this," she commented, sitting back in her seat and staring out of the window.

Draco shrugged. "I was going to take you to the family estate, but I was told you hated flying and, well, all of our horses are winged," he told her honestly.

Her head whipped to him and she stared at him in wonderment. "You own winged horses?!" she asked, shocked.

He shrugged again. "We own a few Abraxans and Aethonans, but we can't really ride those. However, I had thought of taking you out on a Granian, but I wouldn't…"

"Your estate. Where is that? Wiltshire?" she questioned.

Draco nodded, but quickly added, "I wasn't planning on taking you inside the Manor, love. I know the memories that place holds for you, even though we redid the entire drawing room."

Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about what he said. "You…" she really couldn't find the right words as she gaped at him.

He quirked a brow at her and grinned. "Would you have preferred to see them?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "YES!" she shouted, then seemed to catch herself. She blushed furiously. The driver had swerved slightly, having jumped from her shout and Draco chuckled. "I mean, yes," she said quietly. She blushed furiously.

"Winged horses?" asked the driver, causing both Draco and Hermione to blanch.

Draco was the first to recover. "They're mostly jumpers," he smoothly lied to the cabbie. "When they are on the field, they look as though they are flying, the way they go over the obstacles. It is why we called them 'winged horses'."

"Really?" the cabbie asked, looking at Draco from his rearview mirror.

The Pureblood pulled out his wallet and took out a handful of pounds, which he handed to the cabbie. "It's yours if you take us to Wiltshire and make it quick," he told the man.

The cabbie took the money and fanned through it. "This is six hundred pounds," he said, his eyes widening.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Is there a problem?"

Hermione quickly interjected. "My boyfriend comes from a rather wealthy family, sir," she said, earning a sour look from the Pureblood. She ignored him. "Would you mind bringing us to Wiltshire, please?"

The cabbie shrugged as he pulled into a gas station and turned the car around. "You think it's smart to brag on how much your boyfriend has, girlie?" the cabbie asked conversationally.

"Why not?" Draco retorted. "I have nothing to worry about. She has nothing to fear. If anyone would try anything, I can simply… make them disappear." His voice turned cold as his eyes narrowed.

Hermione looked at the Slytherin warily. She knew he didn't really mean what he said. Right? Then he glanced at her slightly and gave her a quick wink. She released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and leaned back in her seat. The rest of the car ride was met with idle talk of nothing in particular, though Hermione did get to learn some about the Malfoy family business, mostly about the vineyards.

Aside from an extensive herbal garden that they used to provide for their own personal use as well as to sell in "private" shops across Great Britain, they also bred and sold the equines Draco was taking her to see. Not to mention other creatures, like their albino peacocks and there was a rare breed of dog they apparently owned that was coveted by others. Of course, Draco and Hermione had begun speaking in code, mostly because the cabbie had a nasty habit of listening to their conversation and even contributing in some cases.

By the time they pulled into the drive of Malfoy Manor, Draco could have sworn he would have bruises in his ribs. Hermione must have jabbed him a thousand times for all the times he almost hexed that cab driver. The cab driver dropped them off at the end of the drive and sped away. Taking out his wand, Draco muttered a few words and Hermione looked at him curiously.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"Put the wards back up," he replied. "And cast a small Memory Charm so that bloke 'forgets' about this place and our conversation." She made a face and he rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. Not that anyone would have believed him, but can you imagine how he would try to find this place? Muggles are curious about everything, even those things they shouldn't be curious about." He sighed and draped an arm around her shoulders. "We can't have Muggles poking around here, especially if you're able to get my father out of Azkaban."

"You're right," she agreed. "He doesn't need that sort of temptation."

He eyed her funnily, but decided to let the matter drop. "So, we have two choices. We can either Apparate to the stables, or we can walk."

"How far is it to walk?" she asked.

He sniffed. "Far enough. We wouldn't get there until dusk and you wouldn't see much in the way of horses."

"Apparate it is, then," she commented.

(III)(III)

The moment they appeared at the stable doors, Draco released Hermione so they could both get their bearings. He sighed and glanced around. "Stubs," he called.

Right as Hermione was going to ask what he was talking about an elf appeared before them. "Yes, Master Draco, sir?" he asked.

Hermione looked at the elf curiously. He had large blue eyes and wore a pillow case that had grass stains and dirt on it. "How is she doing?" Draco asked the elf, which only peaked Hermione's curiosity.

"Silver Nymph does well, Master Draco," the elf replied. "Silver Nymph is out in the pasture now, Would Master Draco like for Stubs to get her?"

The Slytherin nodded. "I would," he said. "How are the other horses?"

"They is well, sir. Athena's 'bout ready to foal. Mister Eugene puts her in the foaling pen and has been keeping an eye on her, sir," the elf told him.

Draco smile mischievously and glanced at Hermione. Taking her hand, he pulled her further into the stable. "You are going to love this," he promised, his eyes glinting in the pale light of the stable.

Hermione's eyes were everywhere as they walked through the barn. Almost every stall had a winged horse inside of it. They were huge and beautiful. "How do you manage to keep them inside?" she asked curiously as she watched one chestnut horse preen its feathers.

Draco shrugged, bringing her to the horse. He waved a hand at the walls. "The stalls are too small for them to stretch out their wings properly," he explained. "They'll get taken to the pasture a bit later so they can fly and exercise, but when they are inside, they don't. They simply can't."

Hermione frowned as she continued to watch the horse. It stopped preening and glanced up at the Muggle born. It moved as close to her as it could, stretching its neck and muzzle out to sniff at the Gryffindor.

Draco lifted an eyebrow at them before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a carrot. "Hermione," he said softly. Straightening up, she glanced at him and he handed her the carrot. "Don't let her lick you," he warned as he moved to lean up against the stall wall.

The Muggle born tilted her head curiously at him. "Will she try to?" she asked.

He smirked. "You're giving her a carrot. Of course she's going to want to, just don't let her do it," he told her. As she continued to look at him questioningly, he shrugged. "She bites."

Both of her eyebrows rose and she looked back at the winged horse. She held out the carrot to the horse and the horse snorted. The horse nickered as she nodded her head. Sniffing at the air curiously, she moved as close as she could to Hermione. Hermione inched the rest of the way and offered the carrot to the horse, who took it quickly and began munching on it.

Draco led Hermione around to the various horses, introducing them to her and she was even able to pet a few. The stable was vast, much larger than Hermione would have guessed. "So, is this how your family made their Galleons? I wasn't aware there was much of a market for winged horses," she commented as she petted a foal.

He chuckled, "No, these are just for fun," he told her. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eye. "Would you like to see the greenhouses and vineyard?"

Her eyes widened. "What is the family business?" she questioned, unable to stymie her curiosity.

"Mostly grow things," he said simply. They made it to the end of the stable where Stubs stood with a saddled greyish winged horse. Draco smiled, his face lighting even more. "Hermione, I would like you to meet Silver Nymph."

She gazed at the animal, impressed by how beautiful she was. The grey of her fur was so light, it might as well have been white. Her muzzle was coal and her brown eyes wide and expressive. Her mane and tail were white and long. It was her wings, however, that impressed Hermione the most. The Muggle born's hands itched to see if they were really as soft as they looked.

Draco's smile widened as he moved to stand next to his girlfriend. He startled her when he touched her hand and she looked at him with wide eyes. "Would you like to go for a ride on her?" he suggested. "We don't have to fly, of course, but we could take her around the grounds. I could show you all that the estate has to offer."

Her eyes shifted from him to the horse and back again. "Are you sure she'll be able to carry us both?"

He laughed. "Granians aren't like Muggle horses. They can carry much more than those Warmbloods that cab driver was talking about, love. Besides, you can't weigh much and I know I don't. It'll be like… like if she were carrying a couple of nifflers."

She giggled. "You're either flattering me, yourself, or both," she said as she allowed him to lead her to the horse.

While Stubs held the reins, Draco helped Hermione up into the saddle before climbing behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and indicated that she should hold on to the pommel of the saddle. Once they were settled, Stubs handed the reins to Draco. "I'll try to keep her from going too quickly," the Pureblood promised as he pressed his heels into the mare's side.

"If you want to take her up into the air, I wouldn't mind," she told him. "Just… not too high?"

He smiled into her hair and kissed the back of her head. "Fair enough. Just remember, I have you, love, and I won't let anything happen to you."

She swiveled her head to look back at him and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "I love you, Hermione," he told her.

Butterflies filled her stomach and she couldn't help the smile plastered on her face. "I love you, too," she whispered, still surprised by the words coming out of her own mouth.

She didn't have time to ponder this new circumstance before they were off in the air. He told her he was going to show her the grounds and show her he did. She knew the Malfoys were wealthy, but she had always assumed it was old money. She hadn't realized just how much they had invested or contributed. Of course, Lucius had never gotten his own hands dirty from soil or cut from hard labor, that's what hired helped and house elves were for. Hermione was pleased to learn that the Malfoys didn't rely strictly on house elves. "Some things are better left for humans to do," Draco had explained as he had taken her around the greenhouses.

The vineyard had been huge, too. The smell of grapes permeated the air. They even had an apple orchard. Draco plucked one apple from atop a tree and handed it to her. She laughed. "No wonder I always caught you with an apple in your hand at school," she teased, taking a bite from the juicy green fruit.

He raised an eyebrow. "How often did you catch me with an apple?" he asked and she laughed more not answering his question.

And it wasn't just growing things. He took her to this large warehouse that was, in fact, a large potions lab. Several wizards and witches bustled about the lab making potions. "We send things to St. Mungos and apothecaries all across Britain," Draco told her. "As well as around the world. Potions, ingredients… We even make cauldrons and potion-making tools."

"And you make wine," she pointed out and he nodded. "That's a lot, Draco. Along with the horse, dog, and peacock breeding…"

"Like I said, the animals are merely for fun and pleasure," he told her as he safely guided Silver Nymph to the ground outside of the Manor.

The sun was dipping into the horizon as he hopped down from the mare and lifted his arms up to help Hermione down as well. He held her in his arms for a few moments, rubbing his hand up and down her back. When they finally pulled away, she gazed up at him. "How do you do it all?"

He laughed, "Well, we don't do it on our own," he said. "You saw our staff and we have accountants and managers that help us oversee everything. Before the war, my father used to take care of all the accounting bits, he personally saw to how much was coming in and going out as well as salaries, raises, and all that other stuff."

She looked at him. "You don't do that?" she asked.

He sighed. "I was being taught," he told her honestly. "During school vacations, Father would keep me in his study for hours on end going over the books. I know some of it, but when the Dark Lord came into our lives, all of that was put on hold. The business itself had started to dwindle and by the time the final battle came, we had no employees and our crops were dying."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What happened to your employees?"

Draco shrugged. "Most of them returned after the war, some didn't. I didn't really keep track. My father was sent to Azkaban and it was all I could do to keep my mother from losing her mind. It's still an uphill struggle for us, too. She…"

"Draco?" They both turned as they heard the creak of the large doors and saw Narcissa step outside. She sighed as she looked at the door hinges. "We really need to get someone to look at these doors. There's no reason they should be making such horrendous noise."

Draco nodded, looking up at his mother. "Yes, Mum. I'll have a house elf check it."

Narcissa smiled as she walked down the stair. "Good evening, Hermione," she greeted, opening her arms to the girl.

"Good evening, Narcissa," the Muggle born returned as she stepped into the older witch's embrace and kissed the sides of her cheeks.

Draco smiled as he watched the two witches. He was so happy his mother had been so accepting of his choice, even if she thought it had been her idea. His smile faltered, however, as his mother asked, "Will you be staying for dinner, Hermione?"

Hermione hesitated, casting an almost fearful glance at the manor. Draco caught her look and inwardly frowned. Memories of Hermione's first and last visit to Malfoy Manor flashed through his mind and he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of guilt. "Actually, I…" he started, but Hermione cut him off.

"We won't go into the drawing room, will we?" she asked, looking back at the older witch.

The Pureblood tilted her head and looked at the Muggle born curiously. "Why ever would we go in there? We have dinner in the dining room, not the drawing room," she pointed out. Her eyes widened in realization. "Is that a Muggle thing?"

Hermione looked at Narcissa in surprise. "What? No… Well, I mean, sometimes, but it's not something we make a habit of," she explained. "Though I know some families prefer to eat in front of the telly, but my own family ate in the dining room. I used to go to friends' houses for playdates and sometimes we would even eat in their bedrooms, but those friends never lasted long. Something always 'happened' and I was considered rather odd. I did learn later, at Hogwarts from other Muggle borns like myself, that Muggles do tend to shy away from us, whether they know what we are or not. It can lead to a very lonely childhood." She was rambling and she knew it, but the thought of reentering that house scared her.

Both Purebloods looked at her. Draco moved closer to her, slipping a hand around her waist. "If you don't want to, love, we can just go back to London."

"Oh, I do hope you decide to stay," the older witch said, looking at the young couple almost desperately. "The elves worked so hard on tonight's meal and I know Maisey would be more than happy to see you."

"We don't have to go anywhere near the drawing room," Draco explained. "In fact, it's already been sealed off. The choice is yours, love."

Hermione glanced up at the Pureblood wizard, thinking over what he said. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead on his chest. She could feel the pain in her left arm, but she knew it was just her imagination. All the pain, all the memories. She knew she would have to face them sooner or later. Given that she was now dating Draco Malfoy, it was probably better sooner rather than later.

Somehow, she found her Gryffindor courage and grabbed it. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked up at the Pureblood wizard and whispered, "Ok. I'll… Dinner sounds great."

* * *

**Author's Note:** OMG, they said the "L" word to each other! Wonder how Hermione will handle being in the Manor again... it's only been, what, 2 years? Also, expect to see Lucius again and soon. Cankerous old man *Giggles* but so awesome! Anyhoot, to answer some responses...

**Kats02980416:** It does help, I think. The information he has will help out, especially later on. I know you don't see a whole lot of emotion right now, at least not much in the negative. The relationship between Draco and Hermione is still relatively new. After all, he does want to marry her**, **but the problems are still there, unfortunately, despite how much either of them try to play it off.

**SmileSimplify:** Ok. I'm going to respond to all three of your messages. For the chapter 9, I think I may have responded to that, or something similar, in PM, before I started taking it here. I'd repost it here, but I think I gave you a rather long response and I don't want to take up that much space for reviews. Key notes for that: Hermione is a hero, but also a victim. She's virtually alone (no on to empathize with her). This whole story up until Ch. 9 is told from Draco's POV and he honestly has no idea what she's thinking or what's going on in her world. When she threw him the surprise party, he was genuinely stunned. This isn't going to be like most other Dramione fics because... well, it's written by me. *Grins* As for Theo, yeah, he had no intention to date Hermione at all, he just wanted Draco to admit his feelings aloud and what better way to do it than make him jealous?

Chapter 10, I absolutely love writing Lucius. He's so delicious and devious. Like I said, he'll be seen a lot more, especially as Hermione starts really working on his case. I'm still not sure what I've decided has happened between him and the Muggle he had been interested in. I think that's something that may come out later on (ei, when I figure it out, lol).

Chapter 11, well, I figure Draco would consult in someone, right? He knows so little about Hermione, at least about her personal past during the war, and Blaise and Theo seem to be a fountain of information. As for me, personally, growing up with two brothers and a plethora of male friends, I've heard how some guys ask for advice, etc. Especially younger guys, like these guys ages in this story. Some guys are too "macho", but this is a private setting, so no doubt Draco feels comfortable opening up and he sees these two in particular as equals to him (something Rowling has said about Theo before. I just extended it to include Blaise as well.) I put Theo and his father's relationship at about the same level that I put Draco and Lucius's, except, I don't see Theo going down the same path, unlike Draco.

Also, I should point out to everyone, it's a bit of a spoiler, but Lucius will not actually sexually assault Hermione. Yes, given his past, it might seem to some that he might go that route, but it's more to scare her than actually do anything to her. With the story I've given him, I would like to think he got burned by that Muggle, perhaps. So, he's not going to exactly itch to "play" with another. Besides, he loves his wife.

As for the edits, I've looked into them and made appropriate changes that I think work better.


	13. Chapter 13

Draco remembered running through the halls of Malfoy Manor with his friends. They pulled pranks, played tag, and terrorized the house elves. They were very mischievous boys. They had even used the drawing room more than a few times to play hide-and-seek. He had never been fearful in his own home (except when his father was disciplining him, that is.)

As he crossed the threshold with the Muggle born witch at his side, he learned about fearing his home very quickly. She clung onto his arm and buried her head in his shoulder. He had to give it to her that she didn't run away in terror, but in a way, he wished she would. What he could see of her face was paler than his own skin and he knew his arm would be bruised by morning. But he didn't push her away, instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her towards the dining room, which, thankfully, was far enough away from the drawing room.

He glanced at his mother in concern and she gave him a subtle shake of her head. His attention returned to the younger witch when he heard her sniffle against his shoulder. He stopped walking and lifted his free arm and rubbed her back as her body shuddered with sobs. He wanted to tell her everything would be alright, but he didn't think those were the right words.

"Hermione," he said softly in her ear. "Hermione, look at me."

She shook her head, but he persisted, rubbing her back, "Come on, Granger. You're a Gryffindor. You've faced the Dark Lord and countless Death Eaters."

She glanced up at him, her eyes blotchy, swollen, and red. Tears fell freely from her eyes. "I… I'm so-sorry," she stammered as she wiped her tears from her eyes. She pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and used it to dab at her face. Glancing down at it, her eyes widened. "Oh! This is your handkerchief," she said, running a finger over the embroidery. "I don't remember…"

"Are you ok, love?" he asked. While he liked that she had seemingly taken her mind off of the drawing room, he also didn't want her thinking about the cloth.

She leaned against him as she continued focusing on the cloth, running her fingers over it. Tears still fell from her eyes as she nodded and then shook her head. "I… I never thought I'd…" her voice trailed off as she rested her forehead on his chest.

"Draco? Perhaps a bit of food will help her," his mother suggested.

He nodded and glanced down at the witch in his arms. He silently thanked whatever god was watching that the shirt he was wearing could withstand her tears and bodily fluids. "Come on, Hermione. The dining room isn't much further now," he said, rubbing her back.

She nodded and straightened up. She wiped her eyes once more and placed the cloth back into her pocket. She glanced at Narcissa who gave her a reassuring smile. Hermione returned the smile with a quivering lip then took a deep breath and gave another nod to Draco. Still holding onto him in a near death grip, she let him lead her to the dining hall.

The moment they entered the room, Hermione glanced around curiously. The room was rather large, but the mahogany table was actually small with only six matching chairs surrounding it. A large chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling and gave a soft white light around the room. There weren't any portraits in the room, but a large painting of a meadow with blue and pink flowers and a babbling brook. Rabbits and deer drank from the brook and nibbled at the long grass.

Draco pulled a chair out for her and Hermione sat cautiously. Light reflected off the wine glasses and silverware. Moving around the table, Draco helped his mother to sit before returning to Hermione's side and sitting beside her. The Muggle born looked around the table, noticing the plates weren't there. Also, "I'm surprised," she commented. "Where's the rest of the table?"

Draco stared at her in confusion as Narcissa's laughter rang lightly throughout the room. The echo did not pass Hermione's notice, but she ignored it. The older witch placed a hand on Hermione's hand. "My dear girl, we don't always use the larger table," she told the Muggle born. "This is just for intimate family dinners, not hosting a large body of guests."

The wizard nodded slowly as their wine glasses magically filled themselves with the dark red liquid. He smiled as he lifted his own glass. "What should we toast to, Mother?" he asked.

Narcissa returned his smile. "Perhaps Miss Granger should give it?" she suggested.

Hermione looked from the older witch to the wizard in surprise. "Oh, um… Alright," she stammered, lifting her own glass. She thought for a moment, idly stirring the wine in her glass. "Um…" Her eyes met Draco's cool grey eyes and it hit her. "To courage, for facing our fears and not letting them stop us from our dreams."

They clinked their glasses, the chimes sounding like music to Hermione's ears, and took sips from their drinks. The Muggle born's eyes widened and she looked down at the wine in her glass. "Was this made here?" she asked curiously.

Draco had been studying her carefully when she made her toast and nodded. "Of course," he said. "What dreams do you have that you've been afraid of?"

She bit her bottom lip and glanced away from him. She searched her mind for some way to respond without giving herself away. Finally, she turned back to Draco and her eyes landed on Narcissa. "I dream of seeing this family whole again," she told him. "It just…" She looked around the room. "I'm going to be honest and, please, try to understand. I don't know if your father and I will ever get along. In fact, I highly doubt we will. However, he should be here and… It is my dream to see him returned to you and your mother."

His eyes narrowed. Plates of food appeared before them: roasted duck with stuffing and mixed vegetables. Draco raised his fork and pointed it at the Muggle born witch. "I have this urge to call you out? You may want to see my father free, though I haven't the foggiest clue as to why but somehow I doubt that is the only dream you have." When she opened her mouth to protest, he interrupted, "Actually, now that I think on it, why do you want to see my father free? I know I teased and tormented you and your friends, but he was downright cruel, wasn't he? I had read about that whole Ministry battle in the paper, not to mention heard about it from other Death Eaters and even the Dark Lord. You fought him and he damn well nearly killed you lot."

"Draco!" his mother hissed at him angrily.

The wizard looked at his mother. Realizing what he was saying, he became quiet. He truly did want to know, but he also knew that his questioning would possibly set him back. Nervous, he glanced at the Muggle born witch to see her staring at her plate, frozen. He could see the tears threatening to fall again and how she was fighting them from doing just that.

"Your father was cruel," she replied softly. Though he could barely hear her, he did not try to lean towards her to hear her better. "In our second year, he slipped Ginny a book that almost killed her and several other people in the school." She glanced up at him. "Remember all the Muggle borns that were Petrified that year, including me? That was all because he had given Ginny a diary that had once belonged to Tom Riddle. Being eleven years old, Ginny didn't think anything of it when she found the diary among her school things and began writing in it. She was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets, though she didn't know what she was doing. If it weren't for Harry, she would have died down there and Voldemort would have returned a lot sooner." Her eyes hardened.

He hadn't know his father had been involved. A quick look to his mother told him that she hadn't known either. Of course, if she had, she probably would have tried to stop the man. Draco glanced back at Hermione as she took another sip of her wine.

"You're right, too, you know," the Muggle born witch continued. "He and his Death Eater friends could have killed us all in the Department of Mysteries. If the Order hadn't stepped in, they would have. As it was, Harry lost his godfather in that battle. Your blasted aunt killed her own cousin, did you know?" She scoffed and shook her head. "Of course you knew. No doubt she gloated about it after. And he was so excited at the idea of delivering us to Voldemort when Harry, Ron, and I were brought here by the Snatchers. He actually pressed you to make a positive ID. Do you remember that?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "There were many times both before and during that final battle that I wanted to hurt your father," she growled softly. He was amazed that she had managed to remain quiet and seemingly calm during the entire time she had spoken. She looked at Draco, tears in her eyes. "I…I know what it is to lose your parents. Harry lost both of his. And I…" She glanced back down at her plate. "I did, too. I… I destroyed both of my parents and I can't ever get them back." The tears did fall now. "Eighteen years. Brightest witch of my age," she shook her head. "I couldn't even bring my own parents back. They're just… gone."

Draco had no words for what she had confessed. Indeed, he hadn't expected that much from her at all. Though she didn't know exactly what the younger witch was talking about, but she reached out her hand across the table and touched the Muggle born's wrist. She didn't say anything for a long while, like Draco, she, too, was at a loss for words.

"It's been nearly three years now since I did it," Hermione said to her food. "Not a day goes by that I don't wish…" She looked up at Draco, a sort of determination in her eyes. "I love you, Draco," she said with conviction. "I don't know why, but I do. The torment you brought to my friends and myself everyday was enough that it literally makes no sense for me to fall so deeply for you, but I did and I do. I love you and I don't want you to go through what I go through every day. Both of your parents know who you are. All their memories of you remain intact." She placed her hand on his upper arm, meeting his grey eyes with her own watery, honey ones. "You shouldn't lose your father and twenty years is such a long time. He defected in the last battle just like you and your mum did. He was wandless and broken and the longer he stays in that prison, the worse he'll be." Draco knew those tears would spill at any moment, but he couldn't find the words to stop them. "You should have your father in your life," Hermione said.

"So should you," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Narcissa straightened up. "Yes, she should," the older witch agreed. She looked at the Muggle born and her tone became softer. "From what you're telling us, it sounds like you had placed a Memory Charm on your parents. Am I right, darling?"

Hermione didn't say anything. Letting her hands fall to her lap, she nodded as the tears began to fall. Draco placed his hand over both of hers for comfort, then, seeing his mother getting up, he stood. "Mum?"

Narcissa regarded Hermione. "I did not know all the things my husband had done to you and your friends. However, he has always prided himself on his extended library and personal knowledge of Charms. It's why Draco is so good at them. I've no doubt he has books on Memory Charms. Together, perhaps the three of us, you, Draco, and myself, can find something to counter the Charm you placed upon your parents."

Hermione stared at the older witch. "Why would you do that?" she asked as she placed her napkin on her plate and stood.

The Pureblood waved her hand in dismissal. "Why wouldn't I? Draco's never brought a girl home before, and as I've gotten to know you, I find myself seeing you more and more as a daughter I'd never had." Walking around the table, the older witch approached Hermione and gave her a hug. "You've helped us so much, darling," she said, pulling away slightly to look at the Muggle born. "It is the least I can do to try to help you find a solution to your problem. You deserve happiness as well."

Hermione gave the older witch a watery smile. "Thank you, Narcissa. And thank you for the dinner. I apologize for being such a downer."

"Oh think nothing of it, darling," the older witch said, waving off the girl's apology. "I can hardly imagine the horrors you've had to endure during the war, including what my husband has put you through. I just hope you don't hold his crimes against my son and myself?"

"I would never fault the son for the sins of the father," Hermione replied. "And I certainly can't fault you."

Narcissa gave the girl a bright smile and patted her hand affectionately. "Now, come, and I'll show you the library. Don't worry, darling, we won't need to go near the drawing room," she cooed. "Draco? Come along."

Draco took a deep breath. A lot had happened in a very short span of time. Hermione had admitted her feelings to him as well as what had happened to her parents. All he had to do was confess his own love for her and he would have her hook, line, and sinker. He walked along her side, resting one hand on the small of her back while holding her hand with the other one.

(II)(II)

Hermione massaged her temples as she read the same passage again. "If I'm reading this correctly, it's telling me the same thing that I had learned in the Hogwarts library. There isn't anything I can do," she said with an exasperated sigh.

Draco looked up from the book he was reading and stood from his chair. Moving across the library to Hermione, he slid in the chair next to her. "May I?" he asked. Not really waiting for an answer, he pulled the book she had been reading closer to him and read the passage. His frown deepened as read through it. "It looks like you would need someone who specializes in the Dark Arts."

"Don't you?" she asked him curiously.

He quirked a brow. "No, actually, I don't," he said sardonically. "My aunt taught me some, my father taught me more, but if you want a real expert, it's best to go to the source." He winked at her as he pushed the book away from him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"I know what you meant," he said, cutting her off. He sat back and sighed. "You know, Granger, you're not the only one who's had it rough. Sure the Dark Arts fascinated me, but reading about them and practicing them are two different things. Small, seemingly harmless things are nothing. I'm sure you remember Crabbe."

She stared at him, crestfallen. She bit her bottom lip, but didn't respond.

He stood from his seat. "Have you found anything else?"

She looked down at the books. "I haven't," she confessed. "I've been through all these books and this one is the only lead I could find."

He nodded. Tapping the book with his forefinger, he responded, "Then let us hope you can get my father out and he agrees to help. We'll need to convince him that it will benefit him somehow."

"What? Like you and I dating?" she asked, looking up at him. "I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help me restore my parents' memories," she said sarcastically. "We both saw how he reacted to the two of us. And like I said before, he and I will never be bosom buddies. I'll be lucky if he doesn't try to kill me again. Or worse, ruin the relationship you and I have built."

He looked at her curiously. "I'm sure there's a way to convince him," he said. "I managed to convince him to buy the entire Slytherin Quidditch team brooms after I was made Seeker. Your parents' memories, or hell, our relationship, shouldn't be that much more difficult."

Hermione's eyes widened incredulously. "You either putting your faith in your own manipulation skills or your father's love for you."

"Actually, both, love," he said with a smirk. "I'm his only son."

She frowned. Being an only child herself, Hermione knew her parents had a habit of giving her what she wanted, but she had never been one to exploit it, at least not much. She sighed. "I don't know, Draco. I don't really see him doing much for his son's girlfriend, regardless of how much you beg."

"Then let's not approach him as a dating couple," he suggested. "If we were to get married…"

Her eyes widened and she stared at him. "Married?" she repeated, thinking she may have misheard him.

He smirked and knelt down before her and looked up at her. "What do you say?" he asked. "You could be a Malfoy, though I know the money and trinkets mean little to you. And the name is rubbish right now, but we could be together. Forever. Just you and me."

Was he really proposing to her? Now? Hermione stared at him in amazement. "You really want to marry me?"

His smile was genuine as he answered, "More than anything. Look. I know the things that have happened in the past between us. Part of why, actually a major part of why, I teased you so badly in school was because I was afraid. When we first met, I though you looked a bit… common, but you were so smart, so brave. As time went on, I hid my growing attraction for you behind my sneers and words. I didn't want anyone to know, especially you, because I knew there could never be anything between us. Then the Yule Ball happened…"

"Yes, why did you kiss me that night?" she asked.

He gave a small shrug and replied, "I wanted to. You were so beautiful and you looked so sad. I just… I wanted to see you smile. I wanted to taste your lips. Figured Krum already had, so…"

"He didn't," she told him. "No one had ever kissed me before you."

His heart soared at that comment. He had been her first kiss? How was that even possible? Though his smile had faltered, his eyes twinkled and shined as he gazed up at her. "Marry me, Hermione. Please? You and I… Well, we belong together, don't you see?"

"What would Harry say?" she asked.

"Who cares?" he replied, his brows furrowing. "Are you really going to let him decide your happiness? He wanted you to marry Weasley and look where that led you. Alone. Weasley could never love you the way I do. Potter's happy. He married the girl of his dreams. Don't you deserve the same happiness?"

"I…" she looked down at her hands which had fallen into her lap. "My parents…"

"We'll get them back," he promised. "Or at the very least, we'll exhaust every possible way of doing so. I won't rest, you know. We will get them back."

She stared at her hands for a long moment. She knew he was only saying that to make her feel better, but it was still a nice dream. She played with the name in her mind. Hermione Malfoy. She did like the way it flowed in her head. She glanced back up and looked into his stormy eyes. What she saw was love, pure and unbridled. Despite their past, he truly loved her and she could see it there. At some point, he had produced a diamond ring, though she hadn't seen him move. She glanced at the ring in his hand and her eyes filled with tears. Surrounding the large, princess cut diamond was six smaller gems, alternating between emeralds and… rubies? She looked back up into his eyes and, unable to speak for the emotion caught in her throat, she nodded.

His smile grew wide. Standing up, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her from the chair, twirling her around. As she descended back down, he kissed her. Her lips were wet with the tears she had shed, but he didn't care. She was his and would soon be forever. He slipped the ring on her finger and could barely contain his excitement.

"This is a family heirloom, you know," he told her. "A few generations back, one of my great great great grandmother had a fascination for rubies, so my thrice great grandfather fashioned her this ring to propose to her."

"Was she a Gryffindor?" she teased.

He shrugged. "Maybe? I'm not sure. Believe it or not, our family haven't always been picky choosers when it came to mates. It wouldn't surprise me that someone would marry a Gryffindor."

She giggled as she leaned into his chest and gazed up in his eyes. "Oh, I hope if we ever have kids, they have your eyes," she said. Lifting up a hand to run her fingers through his hair, her smile widened. "And your hair. So silky and smooth and soft."

He grinned. "We should have at least one child with your hair," he surmised. "And your eyes are beautiful."

She scoffed, but giggled. "My hair is horrible!" she complained.

He quirked a brow. "Your hair is perfect." He kissed her lips. "Sexy." He kissed her cheek. "Wild." Cupping her face, he bent his head and pushed her face slightly aside so he could press his lips to her neck.

She shuddered and moaned. "Draco," she whispered breathlessly.

Pulling away, he peered down at her, his eyes darkened with desire. He rested his forehead against hers. "Do you still want to wait?" he asked softly.

Her hands rested on his chest as her eyes moved up to look into his. He could see the struggle within them and opened his mouth to say something when she replied, "Yes. It's a promised I made to myself."

Inwardly he groaned, but he made no protest. Straightening up he smiled down at her. "Very well. I respect you for that," he told her and he truly meant it. It would be hard for the next… however long it took them to actually marry, but he would wait. For her. He would do anything for her.

She looked at him curiously, before turning back to the book. "So, I guess the next step is talking to your father?"

He shook his head. "He won't listen until we actually are married," he pointed out. "So there's no sense…"

"Is that why you want to marry me?" she asked suddenly.

Scrunching his eyebrows, he frowned. "What? No, of course not," he said. "I want to marry you because I love you. You mean everything to me, Hermione. I just know my father."

She nodded, slowly. She let the matter drop for now, though she wasn't entirely satisfied with his answer. She loved him and she knew he loved her as well. Would that be enough though?

(III)(III)

Hermione had come to hate walking into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in particular the Auror Office. She had thought about calling to Grimmauld Place, but she knew Ginny was currently working with the Holyhead Harpies and Harry would more than likely be spending his time in the office. She just hoped Ron wasn't around.

Approaching Harry's office, she gave the secretary a smile as she was waved in. Running her hand over her business suit, Hermione took a deep breath.

"That's a lovely ring, Miss Granger," the secretary commented as she passed.

Hermione gave the young woman another smile. "Thank you, Miss Avery," she replied. She took another breath, turned the knob of Harry's door, and knocking on the door, she entered the office.

The Muggle born didn't know whether to groan in annoyance or turn around and leave. Harry sat behind his desk with a quill in his hand as though he had just been writing something. Ginny actually sat in one of the guest chairs and Ron sat in the other. All three looked up as the Muggle born walked in.

"Hermione!" Ron greeted as he stood up. He gave her a hopeful smile. "It's good to see you again."

Hermione gave Ron a small smile and then looked at Harry. "Could we talk? Alone?" she asked, desperation in her eyes.

The black haired man looked at her in concern. Putting his quill down, he pushed his glasses up. "Is something wrong?" he questioned.

"Hermione, I heard you're trying to get the Malfoy case reopened," Ginny stated, staring at her friend with troubled eyes. "Is it true?"

The Muggle born felt like a deer caught in headlights. "I… I can come back," she said as she started backing out of the room.

Harry stood up then. "No, please stay," he responded. He glanced at the two red heads. "Could you two give us a moment?"

Ron gave him a nod and started to leave. As he drew closer to Hermione, he looked down at her. "After you're finished here, perhaps we can talk?" he requested.

"There's nothing for us to talk about, Ronald," the Muggle born commented, giving the ginger haired wizard a harsh look.

"But we do," he insisted. "You and I…"

Hermione's eyes flashed and she stepped away from him. "It stopped being you and I the moment you accused me of doing something you know I would never do," she hissed.

Ginny sighed as she moved between the two. "I would like to talk as well," she said to the brunette. "You're never around us anymore, Hermione, and you're one of my best friends. I miss talking to you." She then grabbed Ron by the sleeve and pulled him along with her.

Hermione stepped out of the way as the two siblings left the office. She missed Ginny as well, but she had a feeling the ginger haired girl would want very little to do with her once she found out what happened. Once they were gone, Hermione closed the office door and, steeling herself, turned around. "Hello, Harry," she said rather sheepishly.

The Man Who Lived stared at her carefully, taking in her appearance and stance. "Nice ring," he commented. He then waved a hand at the empty seat to his left. "Have a seat."

The Muggle born paled, but she moved to sit in the seat he indicated. "Harry, I can explain…" she started.

He sat down himself and looked at her. "Do you love him?" he asked, cutting her off.

She gave him a watery smile. "I do."

"Then that's all I need to know," he said, sitting back in his chair. "You know how I feel about him. And even though I think this may be a mistake, I support you." He reached across the desk and held out his hands for her, which she grasped. "I love you, Hermione. As much as I hate him, I love you more. I don't know everything that Ron did when you were with him, but I saw the hurt in your eyes just now. If Malfoy is making you happy, that's all that matters to me."

A single tear fell from Hermione's eyes as she smiled. "Thank you, Harry," she said taking one of her hands back so she could swipe it across her eyes. "I was afraid I was going to lose you. You're the closest thing I have to family, especially now. We…" She dropped her hands and looked down at them. "We talk, Draco and I," she admitted to her hands. "He takes me out to lunch or dinner or somewhere else and we talk. Sometimes it's about nothing major, but sometimes…" She looked back up at the spectacled man. "He listens to me. Whether I'm laughing or crying, he listens and he's there to wipe away my tears. He helps me take away the pain. And he's there in ways no one else has ever been."

He nodded. "And I'm happy for you," he told her. "Are you sure this is what you want, though?" He waved a hand to indicate her ring. "I've done my research, Hermione, and the Malfoys don't believe in divorce. Once you marry him, that's it. You can't back out of it if things get rough and when Lucius gets out of prison, because I assure you, he will, it will get worse."

"I know," she told him. "I don't believe in divorce either, but I don't think I have anything to worry about there."

"You also have to consider this," he said, not letting her to continue. "I know you hate the titles as much as I, but the fact is that you are one third of the Golden Trio. You're a war heroine. You've been given medals of honor and Galleons for services to the Ministry. Order of Merlin First Class.

"On the flip side, the Malfoys have been disgraced. Their relationships are at the bare minimum. They don't host parties anymore because no one wants anything to do with them. But the moment you and Draco marry, all of that is going to change, don't you see? People may not like the Malfoys, but do you honestly believe being married to Draco will stop the media or your friend from being around you?"

"A girl can dream," she said. At his surprised look, she shrugged. "At least with the media. I'm so tired of them wanting to know everything that's happening in my life. They already know Ron and I aren't together anymore and I'm sure they'll learn about Draco and I being engaged soon enough."

"Hermione, they are going to be all over you!" Harry snapped. "Imagine the shock. Malfoy's only son to wed Hermione Granger. You know they are one of the oldest Pureblood families in all of Great Britain? Lucius and Draco weren't the only ones who had supported Voldemort. Though Abraxas never became a Death Eater, he certainly approved of Voldemort's message."

"That's hearsay," Hermione protested. "And, regardless, you can't judge Draco based on what his ancestors have done, and I include Lucius in that."

"Alright. What of Draco himself?" he asked. "I may have defended him and his mother in court, but that doesn't change the fact that Draco was a Death Eater."

"You said it yourself that he didn't have the stomach for the life," she pointed out. She sighed. "Look. I'm not here to get into a huge fight or debate about Draco and his family. All I wanted was to inform you that, soon, I will be part of that family."

He pinched his lips and frowned. Wrinkling his eyebrows, he gave a single nod. "I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into. Marrying you will to a lot to help their reputation, especially his. You know he visited Headmistress McGonagall recently? Told her he was looking for a job, but never returned."

She hadn't know that bit, though she did know he was donating money to the school. "He doesn't need me to rebuild his reputation. From the sound of it, he's working to do that on his own." She shrugged.

He sighed. "Just remember, Hermione," he said as he rubbed his tired eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "I'm here if you need someone to speak to and… let me tell Ginny? She's going to flip, but I'd rather be the one to deal with the brunt of her anger."

She nodded and offered him another smile. "Thank you, Harry."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, that went a lot quicker than I had originally planned, but it works for what I want. Don't worry, the story isn't over by a long shot and things are NOT going to be a bed of roses from here on out. Ron still doesn't know and neither does Ginny. Furthermore the suspicion of Draco's intentions are still there, regardless of what he's told Hermione.

**SmileSimplify: **That's my heacannon about the Malfoys as well. And while I don't believe Draco and Hermione simply being married will change Lucius's mind about her, it's a start. It's already there for Narcissa, as you can see. I found out about the different breeds of winged horses when I read "Fantastical Beasts and Where to Find Them" There are a LOT of magical creatures that are not covered in the Harry Potter books. And Hermione is very much a Gryffindor. We saw that in the actual books, but I wanted to expand upon it. Our Hermione is going to be ok.

**Kats02980416:** I don't know if I made it clear enough when Draco was talking to Blaise and Theo, but I guess I didn't. Draco planned this entire thing from the beginning. He knew his mother would never agree to him marrying a Muggle born, so he purposely placed that picture in a spot where she could easily see it. He knew she was broken and desperate and that she would draw the conclusions that he and Hermione would be a good match. Like he's telling Hermione in this chapter, he knows his parents. How do you think he was so spoiled? It wasn't just because they were willing to give him everything. He's a Slytherin. The things they wouldn't give him, he figured out ways to convince them that he needed whatever it was that he wanted. And even when they did eventually figure it out, it was either too late to say anything OR there wasn't much they could do. You'll see. Draco has it all planned out because it is true. He does genuinely love her.

**Chester99:** This is something else that I hope I was able to show in this chapter. Harry knew Ron and Hermione argued a lot, but he didn't know everything Ron did. Also, once he did find out, there isn't a doubt in my mind that Harry had a _serious_ talk with Ron. Hermione is his friend as well, but more than that, she is his sister in so many ways.


	14. Chapter 14

A few days had passed since she had spoken to Harry. Hermione giggled to herself as she heard the sounds of the wizard piddling around in the loo. Her wizard. She had expected him to be a little intrigued by her Muggle dwelling, but not this much. She wanted to go in and check on him, but she honestly didn't know what he was doing. Knowing he had needed to actually use the loo, the last thing she wanted was to walk in on him… taking care of business.

She sat down on the couch and opened her book, patiently waiting for him to come out of the restroom. It was right at the moment that she glanced up at the fireplace when the flames burst green and two angry redheads stormed through. She gazed at the siblings in surprise. She could have sworn she had barred her Floo from Ron.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Ron spat as he roughly shook the soot off his robes and glared at Hermione.

Ginny brushed the soot off her own robes as she stared daggers at her brother and then at the Muggle born. Confused, Hermione stood up. "What are you on about this time, Ronald?" she asked.

She briefly wondered if it were possible for those of the Wizarding world to spontaneously combust and she assumed it was because she thought she had read somewhere about wizards and witches doing just that. He pointed an accusing finger at Hermione's face. "Are you or are you not _engaged_ to that nasty stuck up ferret?"

She wasn't sure if Harry had told him or if Ginny had, but she supposed that at this time, it didn't really matter. "His name is Draco," she corrected. "And, yes, we are engaged."

The ginger sputtered as he tried to form the words of his rage, but it was Ginny who spoke up. "How could you, Hermione?" she asked and she truly did look hurt. "Don't you know what he and his family have done to us? Don't you remember what he did to you?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she frowned. "I haven't forgotten," she admitted and before Ron could interrupt, she added, "but he's changed!"

"Death Eaters don't change!" Ron sneered as Harry entered the room through the Floo. "He's only going to hurt you, Hermione, and when he does, don't come crawling back to me, begging for my forgiveness!"

Harry let out a patient sigh as he stepped between Ron and Hermione. "Ron, I told you already, mate, this is her business. We can't interfere…"

"Damn it, Harry! Do you see what she's doing? She's throwing her bloody life away and giving it to that snake!" Ron yelled. "All because she's pissed at me for yelling at her that day." He looked over Harry's shoulder at the Muggle born. "I already told you that I'm sorry, Hermione. What more do you want? Forget this prat and let's move on with our plans to be together."

Hermione heard mocking laughter and turned to see Draco leaning against the door frame to the hall. There was no humour in his eyes, however, as he pushed himself off the wall and stalked towards the Gryffindors. "You really think you know me so well, don't you, Weasel?" he sneered.

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," the ginger said with certainty.

Hermione could see the storm brewing in Draco's eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it. "Leave it to you to bring up the past and wave it around like some sort of victory flag," he snarled.

"Why shouldn't I?" Ron spat back. "We won, didn't we? And you lost!"

Draco raised a single brow. "Last I checked, Weasel breath, I'm the one who has the girl," he said tauntingly.

Hermione gasped as Ron's face turned red. "You slimy git! You don't even deserve her!"

"Ron," Hermione interjected, pushing herself between the two Pureblood wizards. "Draco has been there for me…"

"_When_?!" the ginger shouted. "Oh, wait! I forgot," he said nastily. "I completely forgot he was there when we were Horcrux hunting. I forgot that he fought with us during the final battle. Oh! He even tried to stop his _bitch_ aunt from trying to kill you! How did I forget all of that? That's right, because he hadn't done _shite_! But he _did_ tease and torment. He_ did_ try to stop us AND his goons even tried to fry us alive! Even after we saved his life, he _still_ tried to turn tail against us!"

Draco started to protest, but Ron cut him off, forcing himself around Hermione and getting into the blond's face. "You did _nothing_! You weren't there for her! You never cared for her!"

"You'd do well to back off, Weasel," Draco said, his voice a deadly calm. His eyes were nearly white with fury. "I do care for her, and I actually love her. I love her enough not only to wait until we marry, but to not cheat on her. Can you say the same, Weasel?"

The silence in the room was deafening, but Draco continued, "Hermione never cheated on you, you know that. Those flowers you saw in her office were from me and I sent them without her knowledge. She was honest and faithful to you, but it wasn't enough. You were too busy hogging the hoops and the Quaffle at the same time, but you can't have Hermione. Not anymore. I admit my past deeds weren't great, but at least I'm trying to change. But you? You want to have your cauldron cake and eat it too, you pathetic swine. Wait. You'd already been doing that, hadn't you?"

Draco stopped when he felt a delicate hand on his arm. Turning slightly, he looked at the Muggle born, but she wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the ginger with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Is this true?" she whispered as she looked at the ginger.

Ron wanted to deny it. He glanced at Harry who stood, shell-shocked, staring at Ron. He then glanced at Ginny and she looked like she was ready to throttle him. Turning his attention back to Hermione, he sighed. "Well, what can you expect, Hermione? We'd been together for two years! _Two_! And I tried being with you, only you, but you never wanted… You were so dead set on…"

He never got the chance to finish his sentence as she leaped around Draco and slapped Ron across the fact. "How could you?" she whispered, tears flowing freely from her eyes. A thousand words lit up her mind of things she wanted to say, but when she opened her mouth to say them, she found that she could not. Her entire body stiffened. "Get out," she said, looking coldly at Ron. "Get out and don't come back."

Crestfallen, Ron's face paled. "Hermione…"

She took out her wand and pointed it at him. "GET OUT!" she roared. "Get out or so help me God, Ronald Weasley, I _will_ hex you!"

Knowing he would not be able to speak with her, he stepped back towards the fireplace flames. He shot Draco a dirty look. "This isn't over, Malfoy," he said darkly.

Draco lifted an eyebrow, but it was Hermione who answered, "Yes it is. Draco and I are getting married, so you can just stuff it, Ronald."

Harry touched Ron's shoulder and pushed him towards the fireplace. "Go on, mate. Get out of here," he advised.

"Good idea," Ginny growled, scowling at her brother. As Ron disappeared in the fireplace, Ginny turned to the Muggle born. "I am so sorry, Hermione," she told the older witch. "If I had known…" She looked at Draco. "I don't agree with this, whatever this is, but as long as you make her happy… If I find out you hurt her, Malfoy, I will hex you to within an inch of your life."

He nodded. "I won't hurt her," he promised, "but if it ever comes up, I'll let you."

She stared up at him for a moment, her eyes hard. Then, after quirking a brow, she turned her attention back to Hermione and placed a hand on the Muggle born's shoulder. "If you need someone to talk to, Hermione, I'm here for you."

Hermione held her head up, and though her tears fell silently, she stood proud. "I appreciate it, Gin," she said. "If you two don't mind," she continued, glancing from Ginny to Harry, "I would like to be alone with Draco now. I'll… owl you both later."

The dark haired Half-blood pulled his friend into a hug. She returned his hug before they broke apart and he followed his wife to the fireplace. Hermione watched them disappear in green flames. Falling into Draco's arms, she cried against his chest. They stood there holding one another for a while. He gently coaxed her to the couch and she curled up against him.

A thought hit her suddenly and she pulled away from him, her honey colored eyes meeting his grey ones. "Did you know this whole time?" she asked.

Sighing, he leaned back in the couch. "I won't lie to you, love," he admitted. "I did."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she questioned, her eyes narrowing in accusation.

He licked his lips. "Didn't think I'd have to," he said, honestly. "Don't give me that look, love. We started dating and last I checked, we're in love. I didn't think it was necessary. Why would I want to anyway? You're with me, not him. I have no intention of giving you up. There's no need for all that drama. You're with me, you're safe. I'm not going to muck this up." He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. "I love you, Hermione, and soon we'll be married. Despite all the horrible things there is about my family, we are a loyal lot. We may make mistakes, we are human after all. But once you're family, that's it."

"Harry said you might be in it for the reputation," she told him, though she did not shrug him off.

He frowned at that. "That doesn't surprise me," he commented with a huff. "Potter will always look for the worst in me." He shook his head. "It's not about the reputation," he told her. "That's not to say that I don't recognize it, Hermione. I'm not stupid, but that's not my angle here."

"Then what is?"

"You are," he told her, looking into her eyes intently. "From the moment I saw you at the Yule Ball, you've been my angle. Probably even before that, if I were to go by what Nott and Zabini told me. You were my forbidden fruit and I wanted you all the more for it. When the moment presented itself that I could have you, I took it. I convinced my mother that you would make the perfect addition to the family, not because I was interested in the blood and brains, but I know her. You come from a very prominent family, or you would if we could restore your parents' memories. You're also the brightest witch of our age. You have good genes and, honestly, Hermione, all that tripe about blood purity is a load of crock. Your blood is about as 'dirty' as mine is."

"So, your mother. Is she genuine?"

He smiled. "As genuine as the Galleons in my vault," he answered. "She's already started calling you her daughter and we've only been engaged, what? A few days? Not even a week! She's written to her sister, too, trying to patch things up between them."

"Andromeda," Hermione whispered. At Draco's nod, she bit her lip. "That might take a while. Andromeda is a sweet lady, but her oldest sister killed her only child and her husband. On top of that, the entire Black family shunned her just for marrying a Muggle born. Her name was burned off the tapestry." She looked down at her hands. "I don't think they could never have a relationship. It will just… take time."

"I know," he admitted. "And Mother knows that, too. However, I think she's willing to do whatever it takes." He didn't know when he had started rubbing her arm, but he found himself suddenly fascinated by the gesture. He glanced at her and his lips pulled up into a smirk as he leaned closer to her and kissed her gently on the lips.

He took her sigh for encouragement and pressed her further onto the couch, covering her body with his own. As he deepened the kiss, he ran his hands along her sides, slipping one hand under her blouse to cup her breast. When she didn't complain, he pushed his hand further, letting it slide under the protection of her bra and letting his fingers tweak the nipple. That earned him a breathy moan and he licked her bottom lip. With his free hand, he grabbed the back of her jeans covered knee and pulled her leg to wrap around his waist. "Draco," she whispered passionately and he pressed his hardness against her core.

Her hands buried themselves in his hair and she arched her back, pressing her body firmly against his. "Draco," she moaned against his lips.

He smiled against her lips and rotated his pelvis. She moaned. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the sound and continued kissing her, moving his hips again and even thrusting slightly, to mimic sex. He didn't know how he managed to keep from moaning himself, she felt so good. It had been so long since he had had a girl beneath him and Hermione was perfect. She arched her back and squirmed just enough to hit the right spots. Her hands in his hair slid down his back and her nails scraped his back. He hissed against her lips and broke the kiss. Sitting up, he gazed down at her. Her eyes were fogged over with her desire and he knew in that moment, he could probably suggest whatever he wanted and she would do it.

Sitting back on his haunches, he sighed. "We should stop," he whispered.

She honestly looked as though she was about to cry. She blinked and he helped her up. She looked at him curiously. "Why did you stop?" she asked innocently.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "You really have no idea what you do to me, do you?" At her confused look, he rolled his eyes. "Hermione, love, have you ever seen a cock?"

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "But I would assume that wasn't a roll of Galleons in your pocket that I felt just now," she joked, quickly snapping out of her surprise.

He chuckled. "No, it wasn't a roll of Galleons," he confirmed. He studied her, the way she nervously bit her bottom lip and kept staring at her hands. He actually caught her shifting a glance at his crotch once or twice. "Would you like to?" he dared.

He laughed aloud at the frightful look in her eyes as she stared at him. "What? No!" she denied. "W-we're not… married."

"I'm not asking if you want to have sex, love," he told her. He could tell she was getting even more nervous. "We don't have to," he said with a sigh. "It was just a thought. We may not be married yet, but we will be soon. Hopefully sooner rather than later."

"Why? Why sooner rather than later?" she questioned.

Both of his eyebrows shot up at that. "Why not?" he bit back. "What's keeping us from being married? We love each other, we're happy together, and my mother loves you. You've been working on my father's case for how long now? He'll be out soon and planning a wedding will become more difficult."

"Because I'm a Muggle born," she surmised and he nodded. "He's going to try to stop us."

"He will," the Pureblood admitted. "Worse, when he gets out, he'll have control over the family, meaning he can cut me out of it if he chooses."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "He could still do that even if we get married before he's out."

The right side of his lip raised in a half smirk. "Actually," he said. "You'd be surprised how quickly his attitude is going to change the moment you become a Malfoy. Especially after the marriage has been… consummated."

"How would he even know that?" she asked, looking at him in confusion.

He glanced around the room. "At the Manor in his office, there's a wall that shows the family tree. Each time a new Malfoy comes to be, whether wed or born, another branch forms and a small portrait of the newest member is shown."

"Oh! Grimmauld Place has one of those," she said, perking up. "For the Black family. Actually shows where your Aunt Andromeda and Sirius had been burned off, and Nymphadora and her family are there, which makes the burns silly honestly."

He nodded. "All the old wizarding families have one in their home, especially those who are proud of their heritage. No doubt, my cousin and her family were formed after great uncle Orion and great aunt Walburga passed away, or they would've been burned off as well."

"How cruel!"

Draco shrugged. "The Blacks have never been known for their kindness, love."

"So, what's to keep your father from doing the same thing once we've married?" she asked. "If we marry before he gets out, that is."

His smirk broadened. "You'll be family then," he clarified. "And while the Blacks have no qualms burning family off the charts, Malfoys are fiercely loyal. If he gets out before we marry, he'll do everything he can to try to stop the wedding, but if we're already married, there isn't much he can do, is there?"

"He could always try to have us annul it," she pointed out.

Draco shook his head as he leaned back on the couch. "Not if we've already consummated," he said. "And I do intend to consummate that night." He smirked as he added, "Multiple times."

She blushed as she looked away. Hermione had never been nervous about anything in her life. However, having this discussion of sex put her on edge. When she was dating Ron, she had read all sorts of books on the process. Being faced with it, however, was a different story altogether. "It doesn't seem too long ago, does it?" she commented looking at him with an odd expression on her face.

He tilted his head to the side in confusion. "What's that?"

"You and I," she explained. "Going to Hogwarts for the first time, being Sorted. You know the Hat couldn't decide at first if I should be in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. To be honest, I personally saw the benefits of both Houses. I believe when it was trying to decide, it even mentioned Slytherin, but it dismissed that House because I was Muggle born. As you know, it chose Gryffindor in the end." She shrugged and looked down at her hands. "I've read Hogwarts: A History. Several times, I might add. It was one of my favourite books to read that year. Godric and Salazar used to be good friends, but all that changed with Salazar wanted the school to be just for those with magical blood and not Muggle borns."

Draco nodded, but the witch continued on, "And then I saw you. You were so cute with your smirk and cool confidence. I was a bit put off when I overheard the conversation between you and Harry, but as I didn't really know either of you, or Ron, at the time, I tried not to put too much stock in it. I did hate the way you treated Neville, though."

"The way I treated…" he made a face. "All I knew about Longbottom was what I was told by my mother and father. I had heard his parents were in St. Mungo's over something my aunt had done to them. My mum was a bit cross because my aunt was thrown in Azkaban over it…"

"Your aunt was thrown in Azkaban for being a Death Eater. The fact that she had tortured Neville's parents was only the icing on the cake to her sentencing," the witch corrected.

He shrugged. "It didn't really matter much to me, love," he told her. "At the time, I was a spoiled, rich brat and the only thing that bothered me about her being in Azkaban is that I wouldn't receive any presents from her. Later on, when she broke out and I got to know her, I realized how much she should have stayed in Azkaban."

"You're still a spoiled, rich brat," she teased and giggled when he gave her a mock glare. When she settled down, she sighed. "Bellatrix did deserve to be in Azkaban. I cannot say I was sorry when she died."

"Nor I," Draco agreed. "Mum was a little depressed over it, but I think it was more because of the sister she once had and not the bitch my aunt had become. Growing up, I had always heard stories of my mother's childhood and the times she had spent with my aunts. Mum's the youngest, you know? Aunt Bella was the oldest. Though Andromeda was a bit… eccentric, they did enjoy one another's company, at least until Andromeda ran away from home to marry the Muggle born."

"Ted," Hermione said and Draco looked at her curiously. "His name was Ted and he was quite the skilled wizard."

The Pureblood nodded. "Funny how that works, eh?" he commented as he draped his arm over the back of the couch. "Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle both came from pure families. They could trace their heritage back for generations. Not as old as mine, mind, but still pretty old. Yet I was constantly helping them with their homework and much of the time, they barely passed their classes. In fact, I believe Crabbe nearly failed quite a few of his classes during our fourth year. The only time either of them ever excelled was during seventh year, and that's not saying much. Learning about the Dark Arts was something they had been doing for as long as I have."

Hermione nodded. "I often helped Harry and Ron with their homework as well, and Neville. But they were all fairly good students, Harry especially. Mostly, they were just lazy."

Draco smiled. "I don't think I ever wanted to get below an Exceeds Expectations. Acceptable grades meant I would receive a letter from my father berating me for the work."

"Despite all the things you put us through, Draco," she told him as she lifted a leg to rest it across his lap. "I had always admired your intelligence and hard work. Harry and Ron used to joke about how lax you were, but I couldn't count the number of times I had seen you in the library studying."

"Spying on me, love?" he asked with a smirk.

She gave a short giggle and shook her head. "It's a bit difficult not to notice someone who's always there," she said.

He idly began rubbing her leg as they talked. "Ever wonder how different our lives would have been if I had just bucked up the courage that night out by the lake and asked you out?" he asked, looking at her with sultry eyes.

She thought on her answer and then replied, "I probably would have laughed. As it was, I was so worried I had imagined that little moment between us and more than a bit frightened that it had been real and you were planning on using it against me."

"Why would I do that?" he questioned.

"Oh, come off it, Draco," she said, though her voice was more contemplative than anything. "You were the Slytherin Prince. So many girls used to talk about you, even my own roommates would brag. After you had kissed me, I was on the edge for months waiting for you to try and do something more."

He shook his head. "I was actually scared myself," he admitted. "I kept my wand tucked up my sleeves for the longest expecting Potter or Weasel to hex me for snogging their girl."

"'Their' girl? You make it sound like we had some devious ménage à trois going on," she huffed.

He shrugged. "Who's to say you weren't? Obviously I know now that you hadn't, but at the time, no one could make heads or tails of your relationship with those two, and you were always together," he explained. "In fact, I considered myself a lucky bloke to steal a few moments of your time alone to dance with you under the stars."

"Draco was particularly visible that night, if I remember correctly," she said thoughtfully and she straightened her blouse.

"Draco?" he asked until he realized what she was talking about. He nodded. "Yes, in fact, I was looking at it when you had come upon me and wondering about that. Grant it, you can see it any night, but it's usually really visible only in July. Bit strange, isn't it?"

"What was strange was you kissing me," she pointed out. "But, yes, seeing the constellation so bright was a bit odd given the time of year. I don't really believe in all that tripe that Divination has, but it was a little foreboding. Not long after, Voldemort returned."

He nodded as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Is there something else we can talk about, love? While I enjoy talking about that night, I have a feeling you are about to go on a tangent about the Dark Lord and his return. I know how much it upsets you and I'd rather not get into that tonight."

He couldn't see her nod, but he did feel her move on the couch and curl up against him. He let his arm fall from the back of the couch to drape over her small body and he pulled her closer to him. He rested his cheek atop her head. "So," he whispered in her hair. "Any idea of when you would like us to become official?"

She snorted as she rested her own cheek against his chest. She allowed the sound of his heartbeat to lull her. "My birthday will be in mid-September and I really don't want to do it then. Perhaps October? November?"

"That won't give you much time to plan," he said.

Hermione looked up at him and he opened his eyes to meet hers. "I'm not much interested in big weddings," she told him. "Though something tells me your mother will want to make it extravagant. Any chance we could have the elegance, but keep the ceremony low-key? It'll be bad enough once the Prophet catches wind of our nuptials. I don't want to poke at the pixies' nest any more than we have to."

"Mum will help you do whatever you like," he said. "This is our day, not hers, and she knows and understands that. If you want low-key elegance, she'll oblige. You just have to tell her what you want."

She nodded into his chest. "Stay with me?" she requested softly.

He glanced down at her and watched her lift her other leg to join the first. Taking out his wand, he conjured a blanket and levitated it to lay over them both. He smiled and wrapped his other arm around her. Resting his cheek in her hair, he whispered, "Always."

Though they were laying on the couch in her flat, it was the first time in a long time Hermione had gotten a good night's sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ron just needs to go away. Lol! But yay! They're working it out!

**SmileSimplify: **Draco is trying to keep her off balanced. He doesn't want to give her the chance to think and back out. Mostly because he fears her "getting smart" and leaving him. We have to remember, he tormented her for years before this and actually became a Death Eater. All the while, he was secretly in love with her. And Lucius. *Giggles* Little FYI, I've already written the next couple chapters. So... you get to see Lucius's reaction. So evil I've actually been thinking if I should recant my earlier statement of him not trying to get a little frisky with her later on. (I doubt it will happen, though.) Thing is, when I write my characters, I don't always decide what's going to happen with them. I mean, sure, one could argue that I control them, yadda, yadda, but in reality, I'm just the person typing the story. They're the ones telling it. I make the characters or whatever, set up what I want them to do, what I want the end result to be, and then I let them decide how they're going to get there. It's weird.

**LanaLee1:** I'm going to answer each of your reviews individually.

Chapter 9: Yes, Hermione does have a big heart. That was one thing that I was hoping someone would see. And she has this great capacity to forgive those others might not think are so deserving. That's why I think she works so well with Draco. (Even though she hasn't forgiven herself.)

Chapter 10: Lucius is evil, indeed, and Draco has every right to fear him. We have to remember, Lucius wasn't just a Death Eater, but part of Voldemort's inner circle. He didn't get there just because of his pretty face and his pocket book. Sure his bank account had to have some part in it, but I've always seen Lucius as this really evil badass who knows how to manipulate a situation into what he wants, which is exactly what he's taught Draco. Look at Narcissa. She dressed so nicely for him, but did Lucius really notice? Tricky, tricky.

Chapter 12: You skipped Chapter 11. Lol! (Joking!) I appreciate the compliment! I really wanted to capture the essence of the Malfoy estate and the wealth they have. Not only that, but he's not just showing off. He's showing her everything that she's going to have as well. One could argue that he's grooming her. Preparing her to becoming the next Mrs. Malfoy. ;)

Chapter 13: Of course he has to look perfect! He's Draco Malfoy! *Giggles* And like I told Smile, this is the time for him to get her to marry him. Like you said, he's a Slytherin. *nail, hammer, head* And you'll see Harry be even more supportive. And Ginny now too! Both of them are pissed at Ron for what he did. Thing is, the whole time Draco was accusing him here, not once did Ron deny it. In fact, he even admitted it to Hermione!


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione had awoken surprisingly refreshed. Warm arms were wrapped around her and a warm blanket over her gave her a feeling of security that she had not known since before the war. The soft thumping of a heart acted as a sort of consistent beat that kept her calm and relaxed. She knew she needed to get up and start her day, but she really did not want to. She blinked her eyes opened and glanced down to see the strong arms that kept her safe. A smile played on her lips when her waking mind produced Draco.

Now that she was awake, she could feel his slumbering breath in her hair. Had they slept like this the entire night? Glancing up, she gazed into his pale face. He looked so peaceful and young. She reached up and touched his smooth cheek, causing him to sniff. His forehead creased as he frowned and opened his eyes. He blinked several times himself before he smiled. "Good morning," he whispered.

She stared at him curiously. "You have blue flecks in your eyes. Did you know?" she commented.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't really make it a habit to look at the colour of my own eyes, love," he said.

As they both sat up and stretched, she could have sworn she heard a loud popping noise coming from him and she looked at him. "What was that?" she asked.

He groaned. "My back," he explained as he stood to stretch even more. "Perhaps next time we have a sleep over we could sleep somewhere a bit more comfortable?" he suggested. "Not that I mind the impromptu rest on the couch, but…"

She found she could not disagree as she stood herself and stretched some more. Her knees creaked and she worked the kinks out of her arms. "Perhaps I could set up a cot?" she offered earning a glare from him. She laughed, "I'm only joking, though I will admit I really don't want to share a bed until we are married."

Inwardly, he wanted to strangle her. He understood her desire to remain pure, but at the moment, he hated it. He pulled her into a hug. "I know, love," he replied. He glanced at the hall where he knew the toilet lay. Kissing her forehead, he pulled away.

Watching him head for the loo, Hermione turned to the kitchen. Breakfast sounded real nice at the moment and so she set about fixing some. As she began cooking the eggs, she heard him call from down the hall.

"Hey, Hermione! Do you have a spare toothbrush?"

She smiled to herself. "In the drawer next to the sink," she responded. "Breakfast should be ready soon."

She could hear the water running in the bathroom as she placed a few sliced of bread into the toaster. The lights flickered, but she did not pay them any mind. They often did that when she had too many things going on at once. Magic and technology always seemed to counteract with one another.

Draco entered the kitchen and Hermione smiled. "How do you like your eggs?" she asked him.

The Pureblood shrugged as he sat at the counter. It was a quaint little kitchen with white appliances and peach coloured marble countertops. The walls were pale blue and had small flowers and butterflies painted in stasis all over. The refrigerator was split in two and Draco watched as the Muggle born opened one side and pulled out a jug of apple juice.

"Would you like some?" she asked as she reached into one of the pine cabinets and grabbed a clear glass.

"Sure," he said. "Do you need any help with anything?"

She looked at him in surprise and smiled. "Do you know how to cook?"

He shrugged. "Can't be much different from brewing a potion, right?" At her horrified look, he chuckled. "No, I was only going to suggest calling upon Maisey."

"Oh. No thank you," she replied as she turned back to the eggs. She added some pepper and some salt before flipping them over. She opened another cabinet and took out two white plates. One by one, she placed the eggs carefully on the plates just in time for the toast to pop up from the toaster.

Draco jumped at the sound as his hand reached instinctively for his wand. "Bloody hell!" he said under his breath as she gave a small giggle. "What was that?"

She shrugged. "Just the toaster," she said simply as she shut off the stove and picked up the plates. She set one plate in front of him and another at an empty spot across from him. She returned to the kitchen to get the toast and put a couple slices in front of him. "Do you need anything? Butter? I have some strawberry jam?"

He warily eyed at the toast. "No," he said, shaking his head. She nodded and went to sit down as he added, "Though a fork would be lovely."

"Sweet Merlin!" she gasped as she got back up to retrieve utensils for them. When she had stood, he did as well. He waited patiently for her to return to her seat before sitting back down himself. Once they were both situated and she started eating, he picked up his fork and cut into the eggs.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. At first Draco would not touch his toast, but after seeing that nothing untoward happened to Hermione upon eating her slices, he decided it wouldn't hurt. After breakfast he helped her clean up and went to wait in the sitting room while she showered and dressed. He would have showered as well, but he did not have any clean clothes with him and she had looked horrified at his suggestion of just staying naked for the day.

He escorted her to work and gave her a kiss goodbye for now, promising to return for lunch.

(II)(II)

It was a good thing Draco had left her alone with a promise to return for lunch, Hermione thought as she stepped into the dark building alone. If he knew what she was doing, he would probably be angry and yell at her. Though once he found out…

_This is something I have to do_, she had convinced herself as she stared up at the prison guard and followed him into the meeting room. He had given her the same instructions as before and she waited.

Sitting in a chair at the table, she unfurled the roll of parchment and went through the list of questions she wanted to ask one more time. The sound of the door opening caught her attention and she glanced up, watching as they brought Lucius inside and placed him in the chair across from her.

"Those won't be necessary," she said, looking pointedly at the chains on his wrists.

Seamus stared at her. "Hermione," he practically begged, "you can't…"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Auror Finnigan," she hissed, glaring at the young man. "Now, take them off and stop arguing with me about it."

With an annoyed sigh, he unlocked the wrist shackles. "If you need anything, Hermione, feel free to shout. I'll be right outside the door."

She gave the Irish man a smile and nodded. "Thank you, Seamus," she said pleasantly. "I'll let you know."

He glared at the aristocrat in the chair. "I'll be back in one hour. Play. Nice."

The older wizard said nothing as he watched the Auror turn and leave. The door shut with a resonating thud that echoed through the room. Hermione could feel her heartbeat quicken as she looked at the man. They had allowed him a shower, but no time to properly dry himself. It was a pity, really, as his hair now hung in dull, wet clumps that almost reminded her of dread locks. "I really need to talk to the head of this facility about letting the inmates take proper care of themselves," she huffed as she rolled her eyes and glanced back at the parchment.

"Why are you here, Miss Granger?" he asked, staring at her with cruel, stone eyes.

She considered him for a moment before saying, "I am not 'Miss Granger' any longer. I'm family now. As I've told you before, I am working on your case to get you out of this hell hole."

His eyes narrowed at her statement and he glanced at her left hand. Seeing the ring, he looked back up into her eyes and his own darkened considerably. "This never would have happened had I been out," he told her.

"Yes, it would have," she argued. "I won't bother going into the details, but suffice it to say that Draco and I love one another and we have for a long time. It was only a matter of time before we would decide to put aside our differences and become something more. Now. Your case," she paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Mother told me that Voldemort had freed you from prison towards the end of Draco's sixth year. She said you had had little choice. Is that correct?"

She had never referred to Narcissa as "Mother" before and, in fact, inwardly cringed at the title. She knew Narcissa would have preferred to be present the moment Hermione started using the endearment in reference to her. Not only that, but the term made the Muggle born's heart ache for her own mother.

The effect, however, was priceless. Lucius's eyebrows flew up to his hairline and his pupils dilated. He did not speak right away, just stared at her in disbelief. Oh how Hermione wished she was a Legilimens! She knew he must be thinking all sorts of nasty things about her. She kept her own expression cool, however, as she waited for his reply.

"The Dark Lord never freed me," he growled, glaring at her.

She stared at him in disbelief and looked back at her parchment. "But Mother said…"

"Cut the 'Mother' bullshit, Miss Granger," he snarled. "I know damn well what my wife told you. He took me from Azkaban, yes, but I was never 'free'."

She blinked for a moment then nodded and glanced at the vending machine. "Are you thirty or hungry, Mr. Malfoy? I have some loose change, I can get…"

"No," he answered abruptly.

She sighed and turned her attention back to the parchment. "Very well," she said, writing his answer about his release on the sheet. Once she was finished, she looked back up at him. "What was life like when you returned to the Manor?"

His eyes narrowed again as he moved his hands to rest upon the table. "You left your wand with the Aurors because they do not trust me anywhere near one. Imagine being in your own home in possession of your wand, but not having the freedom to use it. Then, imagine a tyrant ordering you to hand over your wand to him so he could use it only to have it destroyed. I spent months in this God-forsaken place with nothing but the clothes they saw fit to allow me to wear. When I returned home, I learned my son was forced to don the Dark Mark and my entire family was under house arrest. I had no wand to protect them, and even if I had, there would have been little I could do."

Hermione remembered when she had accidentally destroyed Harry's wand. It had been a horrifying experience. She could barely imagine what Lucius had gone through in the same situation. Curiosity caused her to ask, "Why did you become a Death Eater? You had to have known what it would be like."

"I didn't 'have' to know anything," he snapped. "Did you know what it would be like being Potter's friend? Nearly losing your life… Your family?" She gasped and he smirked. "Yes, did you know when you became Potter's friend that you would eventually have to Oblivate your own Muggle parents?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you…"

He pointed to the parchment. "We are allowed mail, Miss Granger," he drawled. "Narcissa had written me, telling me how devastated she had been to learn what you had had to do to your own parents. Haven't had much luck reversing the spell, have you? That's why you're working my case, isn't it? Smart girl like you. I have no doubt you had read about the reversal at the library in Hogwarts and knew you would need a Dark wizard to reverse it."

She shook her head in denial. "The Hogwarts library didn't have that book. Yours did. I had even tried looking in Flourish and Blotts, but found nothing…" she faltered and glanced at her parchment. She hardened her eyes and looked back up at him. "We're not here to talk about my family or myself."

"Aren't we?" he asked. "Didn't you tell me moments before that we're family now? You're so ready to call my wife your mother while your own mother awaits in… Australia for a cure to her Oblivion." He quirked a brow and Hermione could see where Draco learned his mannerisms. "You want me out. Why? What do you gain from having me released?"

"Do you not want to be out?" she returned.

He smirked and leaned back in his chair. "I do and you know the reason for my desire. I've yet to learn yours," he said. "Let me ask you this, Miss Granger. Do you plan on actually marrying my son?"

"What? Yes, of course I do," she answered. "Why would you ask that?"

He tilted his head. "You'll be marrying the youngest Malfoy, the only heir from a long line of Purebloods," he told her and she could tell he was watching her closely. "A family that, up until this point, has been notorious for working against Muggles and bringing Muggle borns into the Wizarding world."

"Yes, and it seems your son doesn't share your views," she said coolly. "Pity that."

He shrugged. "There is one thing, of many, that you should learn about our family if you wish to be part of it, Miss Granger. We are adaptable," he told her. He studied the fingers of his left hand, checking the nails. As he began picking at the dirt underneath, he continued, "My father had always been a prominent wizard. Prefect and Head Boy at Hogwarts, like Draco and myself. I remember returning home one day, shortly after my own graduation, and meeting a man with whom my father had been good friends. This man dubbed himself 'Voldemort', though I knew that couldn't have been his true name. Later I had asked my father of it, and he simply said the man had fashioned himself a new name because he was changed. Nevertheless, this man stayed with us for a week and I became more acquainted with him.

"It won't take much for you to imagine, I'm sure, Miss Granger. Being Slytherin, he spoke of his ambition to return the Wizarding world to what it had once been. He even wanted to extend it to eradicate Muggles and their kind completely," he explained. "For a young man, his words appealed to me. Like my father, I felt this was the way to go. A few months after, I had become reacquainted with Narcissa Black and we soon married. "

Fascinated with his tale, she was quiet as he spoke. She made notes, as well. "So what happened?" she asked.

"I believe I could use a drink, Miss Granger," he said, licking his lips.

Snapping out of her trance, Hermione reached to her waist and untied the little pouch there. "I'm sorry!" she said, jumping up and going to the vending machine. "I completely forgot," she continued as she bought a bottle of pumpkin juice for him. She bought another for herself and brought both drinks to the table. "I do hope this is acceptable, Mr. Malfoy."

He picked up the juice, glancing at it, rolling the bottle in his hand. Opening it, he took a sip and looked back at it again. "It's doable," he said slowly. Taking another sip of the drink. He looked at her intently. "You called my wife 'Mother', most likely because of my son and your apparent closeness to my wife. Will I not be bestowed the same courtesy given that I am Draco's father and Narcissa's husband?"

She nearly choked on her own pumpkin juice and stared at him incredulously. "You want me to call you 'Father'?!" she managed to spit out once she was able to regain her voice.

He did not laugh, but there was a flash of merriment in his eyes at her displeasure. "Perhaps not," he admitted. "The word sounds… distasteful when you use it in reference to me."

She nodded. While Hermione was certain that she should feel insulted, she decided to let the matter drop. "So, what happened?" she repeated her earlier question. "After you and Narcissa married?"

He took another sip of his drink and placed it on the table. "Father had never joined the Dark Lord's ranks, mostly because he didn't see the profit. As I said before, Malfoys are adaptable, but only when we can use it to benefit us. There was no… what's the Muggle phrase? Pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? At least, not where the Dark Lord was concerned. Father never saw it, but I did. Being young and naïve, all I could think about was my wife and unborn child, and how the world would be with the Muggles put in their place."

"Narcissa was pregnant with Draco at the time?"

He shook his head. "She was pregnant, sure, but not with Draco. That didn't happen until later," he told her. "However, she was pregnant at the time and I wanted the best for my child and future children if we were to be blessed. The Dark Lord promised this and much more, if only I take up the Mark and follow him. So after asking everything I could, I agreed and became one of the first out of many. Just like you, I was ignorant to all the things I would have to do."

She nodded. "Hindsight is 20/20," she commented as she glanced down at her parchment. "It says here that you may know something of the other Death Eaters, being that you were in Voldemort's inner circle."

He gave a small smile. "I may," he said, picking up his drink and taking another sip. "The Minister visited me recently and offered me a deal, Miss Granger." He glanced at the bottle. "If I were to give names and possible locations, I could be free of this place much sooner."

"But there's no guarantee as to when," she pointed out.

He tipped the bottle towards her. "Thus the reason I haven't said anything yet," he told her. "My advice, Miss Granger, is this: if you wish to marry my son, then do so by the end of this month. When I get out, if he's not married, I will do everything in my power to prevent the two of you from ever getting married."

She frowned. "Why? You know he loves me. "

"I know he is infatuated with you, Miss Granger," he corrected. "And he's feeling a measure of foolishness and possibly even bravery with me locked away. There isn't a doubt in my mind that he is going through a phase of rebellion right now."

"Is that what you think this is?" she hissed, holding her chest in offense.

He shrugged. "I know that is what it is. You forget, Miss Granger, he is my son," he told her. Tilting his head, he waved a hand idly as he added, "Sure, you're young and beautiful. There is no doubt of your intelligence or what you could contribute to the family as far as genes are concerned. You may be Muggle born, but correct me if I'm wrong, Miss Granger, your family is quite possibly as old as my own. Weren't your ancestors knights? Very much steeped in Celtic traditions, too."

She looked at him in surprise and he smiled. Leaning forward, he said quietly, "You are not the only one who does their homework, my dear." He sat up and rested his back against the chair. "The moment my son spoke of you, how many years has it been now? Eight? I have begun learning all I could of you. I even spoke with your father, though he didn't know who I was. I wanted to know everything I could about this girl my son fancied, though he pretended as if he didn't. Young boys being what they are, you know. But I had seen the spark in his eyes when he complained about you and I knew you were going to be trouble. I did what I could to dissuade him as any proud Pureblood father would, but I knew it wouldn't last, especially if you managed to survive the war. The moment I was locked up for this second time, I knew there was no turning back. "

"But you were surprised to see me," she said, her eyes widening. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You said…"

"Put that finger down, Miss Granger!" Lucius reprimanded, scowling at her. "I won't have my son's future wife act like a harlot. Yes, I was surprised to see him actually buck up the courage, but I'm not stupid. He had been pining over you for years before. I had just hoped that I would have gotten through to him by now. No matter." He waved the notion off. "What's done is done. I've no doubt he's already been trying to convince you to marry him soon. I am merely giving you a time limit. Once Shacklebolt and I finish our negotiations, I'll be home and your chances of joining our family will be naught."

"So I'm wasting my time," she said with a huff as she threw her quill down. "You don't really need me."

"Quite the contrary, my child," he said, letting the last word out through clenched teeth. "You intend to be part of this family and I do believe you could contribute much to this family."

"Then why protest it! Your son loves me. I love him. Your wife has no problem with it. In fact, I daresay she loves me as well," she fussed.

Lucius scoffed. "She doesn't love you, my dear," he snarled and he sniffed. "You're a smart girl. Brightest witch of your age or some tripe. Think on it for a moment. Brightest witch, female member of the Golden Trio, she who hunted down and destroyed Voldemort and all his Death Eaters. Hermione Granger is married to Draco Malfoy. What a headline that would be for the _Daily Prophet_! Golden Girl of the Trio married to vicious former Death Eater son of a renowned Death Eater. If that doesn't ruin your reputation, then it will certainly gain our family name higher prestige."

"All because your Pureblood son married a Mudblood," she snarked. She did not like the nasty tone in which he had spouted out those words, but she did enjoy the sour look on his face. "And Narcissa_ does_ love me." She stood and began rolling up the parchment, tucking the quill behind her ear. "I think we are done for the day, Mr. Malfoy."

"So soon?" he asked, watching her pack up.

"We still have fifteen minutes," she confessed, "but I promised Draco I'd meet up with him for lunch." She gave him a strained smile. "Wouldn't want to be late. Surely you understand, _Father_." She had spat the last word out with disgust. They both stopped and stared at one another for a moment.

Lucius was the first to break, a slow smirk pulling up his cheeks as he gave a sardonic chuckle. "Indeed. I'll be seeing you soon, my dear," he told her. "Do be sure to marry my son before I'm out. You don't have to worry about sending me an invitation."

(III)(III)

"Hello, love," Draco greeted as he kissed Hermione lightly on the lips.

She returned his kiss and broke away, giving him a dazzling smile. "So, I've good news," she said, her eyes catching the light in the office and twinkling.

Her smile was contagious and he could not help but return it as he slipped an arm around her waist and led her out of her office. "Do tell," he replied as they walked towards the lifts.

"Well, I have several pieces of good news," she corrected herself. "I don't have to work on your father's case anymore because he and Shacklebolt are working out a deal. Something about your father giving the Minister information about other Death Eaters. Also, I think you're right about your father not giving us any problems getting married, so long as it's done before he gets out. I do think your father can convince the Minister to release him sooner rather than later, so he won't have to spend twenty years locked up."

She had said all of this so fast and enthusiastically, that Draco barely caught all of her words. He laughed at her energy, but once he caught up with her, he stopped, pausing in the middle of the hall. She faltered and looked at him. "Hang on," he said.

She tilted her head. "What is it?"

"How do you know whether my father will or will not be giving us problems with getting married?" he asked, suspiciously.

She shrugged. "Isn't that what you told me?"

"Yes, but…"

"I'm simply agreeing with you, that's all," she replied as they exited off the lift.

Draco frowned slightly. "The Leaky Cauldron?" he suggested.

Her smile brightened. "Yes, please. I heard Hannah Abbott is working there now. It'd be so nice to see her again."

"Who is that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She giggled. "I keep forgetting how little you paid attention to the other people in Hogwarts, especially if they weren't in Slytherin. Hannah Abbott was a Hufflepuff in school. She was part of Dumbledore's Army. Last I heard, she was dating Neville, though that could be just rumour. Either way, it'll be nice to see her again. She was a sweet girl."

"War changes people," Draco warned. "Remember that, love. You and I are proof. She may not be as good-natured as you remember."

She shrugged. "We've all changed, but Hannah and I were friends. Besides, if she's dating Neville, she can't be that bad."

He rolled his eyes as they exited the Ministry and started down the road to the Leaky Cauldron. "Gryffindors. You all think that just because Gryffindor backs something then it must be fine. Look, Longbottom might just be dating her because he thinks he can fix her problems or she's pretty or any other number of reasons."

"Is that why you're dating me?" she asked glancing up at him.

He frowned and looked at her. "You always do that. Every time I make a comment about someone dating someone else, you ask if that's the reason I'm dating you," he said irritably. "No, Hermione. I'm not interested in trying to fix you. I think you're beautiful, smart, funny, and despite everything that's happened, you're still sane. You love reading and learning. Also, I can actually have an intelligent conversation with you."

"Maybe Neville's dating Hannah for those same reasons?" she suggested as he opened the door for her.

Draco sighed as they looked about the tavern for a place to sit. Hermione waved happily at someone and Draco followed her line of sight. A rather pretty blonde walked over to the couple and hugged the Muggle born. Draco looked at the girl curiously.

Pulling away from the girl, Hermione beamed. "Draco, I would like you to meet Hannah Abbott. Hannah, this is…"

"I know who he is," the girl said looking at Draco with wide eyes. "So the rumours are true, Hermione? You're actually dating Draco Malfoy?" The Slytherin wondered briefly if there was something wrong with the girl's eyes the way they kept moving from him to the Muggle born.

To Draco's surprise, Hermione showed the girl her left hand. "Not just dating," the bushy haired witch corrected. "We're engaged!"

Hannah gasped as she took Hermione's hand to look at the ring more closely. "Oh, my God, Hermione!" she squealed. Clutching her chest she pulled Hermione close to hiss in her ear, "You do know he's a Death Eater, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she stepped away from the girl. By the look of Draco's sour expression, the brunette knew he had heard the question. "_Former_ Death Eater," she amended. "He and his family defected, remember?"

"And now he's marrying a Muggle born," the blonde girl breathed, looking at Draco in sheer curiosity.

"I'm standing right here," he growled. Suddenly the idea of eating at the Leaky Cauldron did not sound as appealing to him.

The girls giggled. Finally, Hermione sighed and leaned up against the Slytherin. "Speaking of dating, is it true you're dating Neville?" she asked the Hufflepuff.

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Though it's still relatively new. We've been on a total of three dates so far," she explained. "I really do like him, you know. I've liked him since we were in school, before the war."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs before he had the chance. "Merlin, Hermione!" he snarled as he rubbed his ribs.

The Muggle born gave him the prettiest of innocent smiles and turned her attention back to Hannah. "He has come into his own, hasn't he?" she stated more than asked. "He used to be absolutely adorable with his chubby cheeks."

Hannah giggled. "Oh, yes, he was! But he grew out of all that baby fat and really turned into a hunk of burning love."

Both girls giggled and Draco thought he was going to be sick. "Maybe I should find us a table, love," he suggested to Hermione, but Hannah waved him off.

"Nonsense! I have a special V.I.P. section for war heroes and their company. You can sit there," the Hufflepuff explained. "I'll have Tom get the two of you some menus and we can chat while you decide."

"Oh, good," the Slytherin said through gritted teeth as he gave the girl a fake smile.

The girls paid him no mind however as Hannah led them through the bar to the V.I.P. section. Draco really felt he was going to be sick as he saw a large portrait of Harry Potter overlooking the section as it sat above the fireplace. There were other portraits around the section of various Order members, including some of the fallen.

"Andromeda was kind enough to give me a picture of Remus and Tonks together," Hannah stated as she led them to a table.

Draco pulled out a chair for Hermione and the two girls sat. He blinked a moment, secretly wondering when the couple had invited the Hufflepuff to sit with them, before pulling out his own chair and sitting down as well.

"That was real nice of her," Hermione said as she picked up her menu. "I saw a picture of the Weasley twins too."

"Oh, yes," Hannah gushed. "One of the last pictures Molly was able to take of them. It's just a copy, of course, but it's still lovely. Such a loss, eh?"

Hermione nodded, suddenly sad, as she glanced at Draco. "She had a crush on Fred," she told him.

He did not respond as he glanced about the small section. He saw the picture of the Golden Trio and his eyes narrowed at the way Weasley's arm was around Hermione. Leaning back in his chair, Draco draped his own arm over the back of Hermione's chair and picked up the menu with his other hand. At Hannah's gasp, he looked at the blonde witch.

One hand was placed delicately over her lips as Hannah stared in horror at Draco's arm. Suddenly self-conscious, Draco dropped his menu and hid his arm under the table. Hermione glanced between the two and sighed. Reaching under the table with her own hand, Hermione grabbed the wizard's hand and pulled it back above the table. He looked down at their clasped hands.

"What are you doing, love?" he whispered.

"Getting over all this prejudice," she growled. "You're not a Death Eater anymore. As bad as it was, you can't keep hiding it. It was a time of your life and we're over it now."

"Not everyone feels the same way," he told her, pulling his hand out of hers so he could pick the menu up again.

"I'm so sorry," Hannah said then. "It just surprised me. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that you two are dating."

"Engaged," he nearly growled, looking at the Hufflepuff. "And we'll be married soon."

"Draco, be nice," the Muggle born admonished.

He actually looked affronted at his fiancée. "I am being nice!" he defended.

The Gryffindor looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Where is Maisey?" she asked.

"Maisey is here," the little house elf squeaked as she appeared behind Draco's chair.

It was the first time since Draco left the Manor that morning that he noticed the elf. He was suddenly thankful he had ordered her to follow him wherever he went. He gave the elf a slight nod and she stepped more fully out from behind him. The girls spent the next few minutes gushing over how "cute" Maisey was.

Draco silently wondered if he projectile vomited towards Hannah if it would actually reach her, but then dismissed the thought. He was Slytherin and Pureblood. He also came from a very high class family and he could imagine the reprimand he would receive from his mother if he acted thusly.

"So, when's the wedding?" Hannah suddenly asked, throwing Draco back into the conversation.

He looked at his fiancée curiously, wondering what she was going to say. She shrugged. "I'll have to confer with Narcissa, of course, but I was thinking some time at the end of this month? Maybe beginning next?" she glanced at Draco for confirmation.

He was surprised by her statement, but he didn't show it. He didn't want the Hufflepuff thinking he was clueless, after all. "I don't see why she would disagree with that," he told her. He leaned towards the Muggle born and kissed her temple. "Anything you want, love, I'm sure she'll agree."

Hannah frowned. "Speaking of Narcissa. She's okay with this?" she asked, waving a hand at the two.

Draco smirked. "Of course she is," he told the girl.

"And your father? I'm sure he's just tickled at the idea of his son marrying a Muggle born," Hannah stated, glancing at Hermione.

It was Hermione who piped in. Smiling brightly, she admitted, "Oh, he wasn't at first, but he has sense had a change of opinion. If Draco and I marry while he's still in prison, he won't have any problems with it. In fact, I do believe he'll even give us his blessing."

Draco frowned, suddenly suspicious again, he stared at the bushy haired witch. "There isn't much he'd be able to do once we're married," he added carefully. He turned his attention to the Hufflepuff. "I'm sure you're aware of how old Pureblood families work. Once Hermione and I are married he'll be stuck. He'll either have to accept her or toss us both out. Being that I'm the only heir…"

The Hufflepuff's eyes widened as she slowly shook her head. "You're playing with fire," the girl said fearfully. She looked at Hermione. "Aren't you scared?"

Hermione shrugged. "Once you've faced Voldemort and an entire legion of Death Eaters, there really isn't much to be afraid of, is there?"

"Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater," Hannah pointed out.

The Gryffindor just smiled. "Like Draco, he defected," she said. "I'm not scared of him."

The Hufflepuff nodded slowly. "You're a much braver witch than I, Hermione," she said in awe.

"Which is why she was in Gryffindor and you in Hufflepuff," Draco practically spat. "If you don't mind, Abbott, I would like to actually spend some time alone with my future wife."

As if realizing where they were, Hannah shot up. "Oh, of course! I am so sorry. I just haven't seen Hermione in so long. She rarely visits the Leaky Cauldron anymore and I haven't seen her since I took over the family business."

Hermione shot a glare at Draco before turning her attention back to the other witch. "We will have to catch up more. I don't know if I had sent Neville my address, but I'll send it to you. I know I'm in desperate need of a girls' day out."

"Yes, same here," the Hufflepuff agreed.

"Can we get two Butterbeers with some fish and chips?" Draco asked the blonde witch.

Hannah nodded. "Sure. I'll bring that out to you shortly."

With that she walked away and Hermione glared at the Slytherin. "You didn't have to be rude," she told him.

"Who's being rude?" he bit back. He waved an arm in the direction the witch had just left. "I'm not the one barging in on a couple's alone time talking about random things and berating the bloke's father."

"She wasn't berating your father," Hermione argued.

Draco sneered, "Think what you want, but I saw the look she kept giving me the entire time she was here. You don't think I notice that shite? And what's all this you were saying about my father? How do you know what he thinks about us getting married?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Well…" Hannah chose that moment to bring them their drinks before leaving again. Hermione took a sip of her drink and stared at the table. "You know I've been working on his case," she explained, "and I have a lot of the basics, but I needed to interview him personally and work out what we were planning to bring to the Wizengamot. So, I set up an appointment with him and visited him today."

"You did _what_?!" he hissed. "Are you mad? Why didn't you tell me?"

She grimaced at his tone, though he didn't yell at her. Eyes hardened, she scowled at him. "I will eventually have to face him anyway, Draco. We'll be family soon and he's not going to be in Azkaban forever. I need to be able to handle him on my own. So, I did. I didn't know Shacklebolt was also talking to Lucius or that they were working on a deal. So, I went to the prison and met with your father, one on one," she explained, huffing. "If you and I get married before he gets out, he told me that there wouldn't be any problems."

"Is that what he said?" the Slytherin growled.

Their plates were brought to them and she sighed. "He just told me to make sure we were married before he gets out," she said. "He'll do anything to stop us once he is out. He thinks you're going through a rebellion phase."

He snorted. "Of course he does," he said as he stabbed a few chips with his fork. Putting them in his mouth, he chewed for a moment as he thought. Swallowing, he continued, "I've no doubt he believes we'll marry and then I'll realize my 'mistake' and want out. Either that or he doesn't think I'll actually marry you." He glanced at Hermione and put his fork down. "Let's do it."

She froze and stared at him. "What?"

"Now. Let's do it," he told her. "Let's go to the Ministry and just get married. Mother will forgive us and we can always have a celebration after."

"Draco…"

"Think on it, love. Father will be getting out of Azkaban, quite possibly sooner rather than later. You know he'll do everything in his power to prevent a wedding once he's out. We can always have a huge celebration after. Everyone will be dressed in their finest and the best meals will be prepared. I could even get a D.J. to play some tunes for us," he explained.

Hermione blinked several times. "You want us to get married now?" she asked carefully.

"Sure, why not?" he replied, standing up and pulling her to stand with him. "You yourself said you didn't want a big wedding. Besides, it's never about the actual wedding anyway. That part can get rather boring pretty fast. It's all about the reception, the after party, and of course the consummation later that night." He touched her cheek. "We can honeymoon in France. We have a house there near the beach that would be perfect."

He was speaking so quickly and that Butterbeer had been so warm. Married now? "But we've only just gotten engaged," she pointed out.

He smiled and kissed her lips. "I know, love," he told her. "However, you said that he wants us married before he gets out. This can be our time. You and me, love. And it's not near your birthday, or mine. A summer wedding, what more could we want?"

Her mind was in a whirlwind as she thought over his words. How long had they been engaged? When did they start dating? It couldn't be more than a few weeks at best. It seemed just yesterday that Draco had turned twenty and now he was talking about getting married today? As she looked up at him, she could see the love in his eyes. She could also see how much he wanted this, wanted her. She knew he had changed, too, and for the better.

"Okay," she finally said after what seemed like ages. "Let's do it."

His smile widened and he hugged her. Picking her up, he twirled her around. Putting her down, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small sack of Galleons, which he threw on the table. He kissed the Muggle born deeply, not caring who witnessed. Breaking the kiss, he took her by the hand and led her out of the Leaky Cauldron as Hannah picked up the sack of gold and glanced at the mostly untouched food.

Looking back at the door, the Hufflepuff felt the blood drain from her face. She had a bad feeling about all of this.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh no! Hermione! *Giggles evilly* So, what did y'all think of Hermione's meeting with Lucius?

So, Will try to respond to all of your comments. If I forget one, please forgive me.

**Occupational Haz: **Ginny's not done with Hermione. She'll have her shot, trust me. She's a bit perturbed with her brother. But the two will have a conversation.

As for how long Hermione intends to stay angry with Ron, I suppose only time will tell. It's good to see that you've caught on the manipulation. Also, you have to figure, this entire thing is happening really fast. They only ~just~ started dating and she's not even entirely over Ron yet. (Well, she kind of is, but we'll see.) Also, this is still the beginnings of their relationship. Hermione hasn't had much time to sit down and evaluate it all.

**Kats02980416: ***Giggles* Looks like their wedding is a lot closer than either thought, huh? Like I said to Occupational, there's still a lot unsettled between Ron and Hermione. Ron's right. They do need to talk, which is something Draco does NOT want. You'll see more of that later on, but Ron is a Gryffindor. Those people aren't really known to give up, are they?

**LanaLee1:** Would you believe me if I told you I had completely forgotten about dinner at the Potters'? Oops! No worries, that will come soon enough. And you're right, Draco did not want to hurt Hermione, however, he did tell her own purpose. He wanted her to know what Ron had done and for the very reason I mentioned in Kat's response. The sex scenes are going to get steamier, too, by the way. That was just a taste of what's to come. As for Lucius and his evilness... that's going to get darker, too. Remember, he wasn't a Death Eater for nothing. What you're seeing right now, is Lucius imprisoned. He _knows_ he has to play nice and he's being as diplomatic as he can. That's why he told Hermione to marry Draco ASAP, because once he's been vindicated, things can and will change.

I do love that you are going back and reviewing each chapter. And I love that you are enjoying my story so much. (Have you checked out the other ones? Heart and Soul had been my first attempt at a Dramione, and while good, you can see where improvement was needed. Still good though.)

Draco and Hermione are my favourite couple that never happened and for many reasons.

**Chester99:** To me, Ron always did have a rather selective memory, even in the books. He also has a habit of pointing out other people's flaws without owning up to his own. (The Yule Ball vs Lavender Brown is a prime example there.) I don't know. he just always irritated me. As for Harry, he is doing his best. It'll become more apparent in future chapters, but he's not spending as much, if any, time with Ron anymore. His focus is mostly on his own family. He's angry, but he's not going to go off on Ron in front of an emotional Hermione and an angry Draco. If he did, Draco would easily assume Harry was on his side, and that wouldn't necessarily be a good thing. I am trying to keep the point of views between Draco and Hermione, so if and when Harry and Ron do have it out, unless it's in front of our couple, or he tells Hermione, we won't really know of it.

**Neo-politan:** I hope this chapter sort of answered your question? Truth is, Rowling did state that Lucius was able to get out of a prison sentence due to both his defecting and giving the Ministry help in rounding up the other Death Eaters. So, that's the angle I'm going to go with. When it comes to how the Malfoys feel about Hermione, Draco _is_ being genuine. He's just being a Slytherin about it. His parents... well, we'll just have to see. ;)

**Alkaid: **Oh, just you wait...

Again. Thank you all for your reviews. You are all such lovely people. I'm still up in the air on a lot of things myself, but it does seem to be getting a lot more.. edgier? exciting? insane? *Giggles*


	16. Chapter 16

Everything was moving so quickly. One moment they were sitting down to eat at the Leaky Cauldron, the next, he was practically dragging her through the Ministry. Well, 'dragging' wasn't a fair word, but he did have longer legs than she did and she was having to skip to keep up. He held her hand tightly, but not tightly enough to hurt.

"Where are we going?" she asked breathlessly. Merlin, she needed to exercise more!

He stopped at the lifts and waited for them, holding her close to his body. "We'll see the Minister. Hopefully we can get there before the cameras go off."

"What cameras?!" she asked, looking fearful around them. Thankfully, she did not see anyone in the hall with them.

The doors opened and he pulled her in. "I thought I had seen a flash in the Leaky. No doubt someone had seen us snogging. Knowing how quickly people talk, we'll be on the front page by morning," he told her.

Her eyes widened. "They can't say anything about us snogging," she said, looking up at him. "It's not like we keep it a secret we're engaged."

"Yes, but, how many people have you told, love? We're not exactly the most outspoken couple either," he said as he glanced around the relatively empty lift. He nodded at the other two occupants, but he did not recognize them. He leaned in closer to his future bride and whispered in her ear. "All we will need is for one or two people to say something and the word to be spread. Even Abbott didn't sound surprised to see we were dating, though I think knowledge of us being engaged might have shocked her."

The lift stopped and the doors opened. The couple both looked down the hall and Draco was the first to step off and he gently pulled Hermione along with him. He glanced at her as they walked towards the Minister's office.

"I don't have a ring for you," Hermione commented and Draco gave her a smile.

"No worries," he told her. "We aren't Muggles. Here in our world, the wedding bands appear when we marry. We'll take our vows and, once we've agreed to them, the bands will form around our fingers."

Her smile was wary, but bright. "I love magic," she said breathlessly and he chuckled as he nodded in response.

They came upon the secretary and Hermione smiled prettily at the older witch. "Is Shacklebolt inside?" she asked.

The witch nodded. "He's with Auror Potter at the moment, however, Miss Granger. Would you like me to buzz you in?"

Both Hermione and Draco answered at the same time, "Yes!" "No!"

The Muggle born glanced at her fiancé curiously. "Draco," she started.

"We don't need Potter interfering," he hissed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and glanced at the secretary. "Please inform Kingsley we're here?" She turned back to Draco as the secretary announced them. "Harry's not going to interfere, Draco. He may not like this, but he won't stop it."

"Hermione, he…"

"Hermione!" Kingsley's booming voice said as the door opened. It was Hermione's turn to lead as she stepped into the room and into the black man's embrace. "It's so good to see you!" he had continued. "How have you been?"

The Muggle born witch giggled as she pulled away. "I've been much better," she told him. "I heard you've been talking to Lucius Malfoy."

"And I heard you got engaged to his son," the Minister said, looking pointedly at Draco.

"I am," she admitted, blushing. She gazed at Draco with loving eyes.

Shacklebolt nodded. "Good, good. So far Lucius has been quite the help, hasn't he, Harry? We put three of his old comrades in bars this week alone."

Harry nodded as well, staring from Draco to Hermione and back again. "Soon, he'll be out. Are you ready for that, Hermione?"

She shrugged. "That's actually what we came to talk to you about, Kingsley," she said, turning her attention back to the Minister. "You can conduct wedding ceremonies, can you not?"

The black man frowned. "I can," he answered slowly.

Draco turned his attention back to the Minister. "We need you to perform one with us," he explained.

The Minister lifted his eyebrows along with Harry as they both looked at the couple in surprise. "I don't see that as a problem. When would you like to have this done?"

"Now," both the witch and wizard said together. Draco touched the small of her back and smiled at her.

"That will be a problem," Harry stated, looking at Hermione. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the Pureblood's grasp to whisper in her ear. "Are you mad? You just announced your engagement to this bloke yesterday and now you're wanting to get married?"

"Of course, Harry," she said, pulling her arm out of his grasp. "The whole point of getting engaged is to get married."

"I know, but you haven't even had the chance to think this through," Harry pointed out. "You've barely been engaged, Hermione. At least wait a couple weeks before you go on and say your vows."

She glared at him. "Don't you tell me what to do, Harry Potter. You're not my father," she snapped. "Draco and I are doing well. We're happy."

His eyes narrowed. "Yes, you're happy now, but how long do you think that will last? You've been together, what? A month? If that? You're still in the honeymoon stage."

"Not yet," Draco said as he leaned against the wall. "But we will be tonight, Potter. I wager it'll be nice, too."

Hermione hissed at the Slytherin, "You're not helping, Draco!" Turning her attention back to Harry, she growled, "Draco and I have known one another for years…"

"And seven of those years he was tormenting you or trying to kill you!" Harry shouted, trying to get the girl to see reason.

Hermione jabbed her fists into her hips. "He never tried to kill me! He even warned me at times when someone else tried to harm me."

"He never…" Harry was flabbergasted. "What about the Room of Requirement, Hermione? Was that just some parlour trick?"

"That was not me, Potter!" Draco snarled, unable to stop himself. "If you recall, Crabbe conjured that curse, not me."

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses back up. "Of course, but who helped him learn that curse? I'm not stupid, Malfoy. Those goons of yours needed your help in every subject, even you were shocked to learn Goyle knew how to read."

"How did you…" Draco shook his head, refocusing his mind on the argument at hand. He would learn what Potter was talking about later from his fiancée. "I never needed to help them learn the Dark Arts," he argued. "That was the one class Goyle and Crabbe had taken that they both excelled at. If Crabbe hadn't panicked that day like an idiot…"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you!" Harry interrupted. "You knew those boys better than any of us. How could you not know he would…?"

"STOP IT!" Hermione screamed, producing her wand and shooting red sparks into the air.

Shacklebolt took out his wand as well, ready to step between the two men if things got too out of hand. Hermione moved to stand next to Draco, tears flowing freely down her eyes.

Her watery eyes stared daggers at Harry. "All I have wanted was someone to understand me. Someone who could make me happy. And I found that with Draco. You may not get me, but he does. Maybe he wasn't there during the war and maybe he didn't help us, but he's here now. You have Ginny. Ron has his own personal gang of brothers. What do I have, Harry? Where's my family?"

"Hermione, I'm your family," Harry said, reaching a hand for her. "You're my sister and, believe it or not, I know what you're going through. I lost my parents, too, remember?"

"Yes, but that was years ago when you were still a baby. Not to trivialise what you went through. The Dursleys were horrible people and growing up without your parents is hard, I know. But you've had your entire life to deal with it. I've spent most of my life knowing my mum and dad. We took trips together and loved one another. They were always there for me and now I can't even call my mum to tell her I'm engaged!" Tears fell freely from her eyes. "Yes, you are the closest thing I've ever had to a sibling, but you have a family and a career now, Harry. Ginny and the Weasleys… And isn't Ginny pregnant now? You don't have time for me anymore, and I don't expect it of you."

Harry took a deep, defeated breath. "I'm glad you found someone to share your life with, Hermione," he said, his voice calmer now as he sank down in one of the chairs. "That being said, I think you should wait before getting married. You just got out of a relationship. You and Ron dating for two years and I know you were devastated. I haven't even spoken much to him except when its work related. Ginny wants nothing to do with him. Ginny's still waiting for your owl, Hermione. Once she got over who you were marrying, and she did rather fast, she started thinking of ideas and actually making mock plans on what she thinks you would want." He glanced up at her. "You were there for our wedding, Hermione. She wants to be there for yours."

"Never took you for a sap, Potter," Draco sneered.

Hermione sighed. "He's right, though," she told the Slytherin. "Ginny has a right to be there when we wed." She looked at Harry. "But we have to get married and soon," she told him.

Harry frowned. "Why are you rushing this?" he asked.

"Because we're in love, Potter," Draco answered.

The Muggle born nodded. "That and Lucius will be out soon. You know all hell will break loose when he learns Draco and I are married. He already knows we're engaged and he's threatened to try to stop us if we don't marry before he gets out."

Draco groaned as he stood up straight and walked across the room to the desk. "That's not exactly information they need to know, love," he said to her.

"Why not?" Hermione replied, looking at the blond curiously. "I don't see why it would matter one way or the other and, besides, it's not like they are going to come between us. Nor is Kingsley going to use this to keep your father in prison." She glanced at the black man who had taken a seat behind the desk and was now watching them. "You won't keep him in prison, right?"

The Minister leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. "You put me in a precarious position, Miss Granger," he told her. "I can't continue containing him if his leads keep turning up run-away Death Eaters, but at the same token, I do agree with Auror Potter. You and Mr. Malfoy deserve to have your day, complete with all the trimmings, and I for one wouldn't mind a slice of wedding cake."

Harry gave a small smile and nodded. "Besides, Hermione, I thought you wanted me to walk you down the aisle?" he asked. "I know I could never replace your father, but I would like to think we were close enough that I could give you away."

Draco took Hermione's hand and moved her to the only free chair. Once she was seated, he jumped up easily to sit cater-cornered on the desk. This gave him the advantage of seeing everyone and still be able to reach Hermione if he needed to.

"He'll be out in a few weeks," Hermione told them. "We need to be married before then."

"Hermione," Harry started, but the Muggle born shook her head.

"We need to be married before he gets home," she pushed. "We _will_ be married before he gets home, too, Harry. We'll do it your way for now. Ginny wants to plan a wedding, she can get with Narcissa and plan it, but if we're not married by the end of this month, Draco and I will do it our own way." She glanced at the Minister. "We'll go to France if we have to, but we will be married."

Harry sighed. "And this will make you happy?" he asked. At Hermione's nod, he questioned, "Are you sure?"

She licked her lips. "I'm not sure about anything anymore, Harry," she replied, "but of this, I am certain. Draco keeps me sane. I can't explain it, but I'm finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and standing there is Draco. Pure, blond, with grey eyes and a snarky smirk."

Draco gave her the smirk she spoke of and glanced at Harry smugly. "She wants what she wants, Potter," he commented with a shrug.

Harry moved lightning fast and, as quick as Draco was, he was less than a second slower, but it was that less than that gave Harry the advantage. Hermione and Kingsley shot up from their seats as Harry pinned Draco against the wall, wand pressed against the Pureblood's throat. Draco glared at the Half-blood and gritted his teeth.

"Let go of him, Harry," the Muggle born warned.

Glancing off to the side, Draco saw her standing there, her wand trained on the Boy-Who-Lived. "It's alright, love," he said, reassuringly. He stared at Harry. "He knows if he does anything he could lose his promotion or worse."

Harry slammed the Pureblood against the wall again. "Care to take that test, Malfoy? I defeated Voldemort. A nasty little prick like you would have to do more than threaten my job," he snarled.

Draco sneered, but it was Hermione who responded. "Let him go, Harry. I won't tell you again," she warned once more.

Harry gave the Pureblood one last shove and moved away. Annoyed, Draco straightened his clothes and rolled his shoulders. Taking his own wand out, the Pureblood pointed it at the Half-blood.

"Draco, put your wand away," Hermione ordered as she lowered her own wand. "All this rivalry has to stop. Of all the people in this world, the two of you mean the most to me." She glanced at Harry. "No one will ever replace you in my life." She turned to Draco. "And no one will replace you." She took Draco's hands in her own. "We _will_ be married and soon, and I will deal with all the Pureblood, old-fashioned stuff that comes along with it, but you have to give me this. Harry and Ginny will always be a part of my life, a part of our lives. And if the Weasleys ever accept my apology, they will, too, with the exception of Ron. Maybe one day Ron and I can be friends again, but…"

"No," he said with a finality that gave no room for disagreement. "Spend as much time as you want with Potter and the Weasleys. I will even try to play nice with them, hell, I'll even make sure my mum invites them to the Christmas bash I know she's going to throw, but I don't want you talking to Ronald anymore. I don't want you even looking at him." His eyes hardened more. "You planned to give him everything and all he wanted was more, Hermione. You almost did give him everything and look at how he repaid you. The first time you get flowers from an unknown admirer, he accuses you of cheating! Something he had been doing all along."

"How do you even know that?" she asked. "Did you see him with someone?"

"Didn't have to," Draco explained. "Nott had seen him and I trust Nott, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she said and she glanced at Harry. "Why didn't Theo tell me?"

Draco shrugged and leaned against the wall. "Probably because he knew how much you liked the Weasel?" he suggested. "He knew you were going through a lot of shite and probably figured you didn't need more. I don't know, love. You'll have to ask him."

She nodded then turned back to the Minister. "When is the beginning of July? About two weeks? Think you can keep Lucius busy until then?"

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Granger," the black man told her.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Minister," she said before turning back to Draco. "We should go see your mother." Glancing at Harry, she said offhand, "If Ginny's up for it, perhaps she could meet me at the Manor? Then again, I'm not sure. I don't want to shock Narcissa, so I would wait until I've spoken to her. I'll send Ginny an owl or Floo her." She sighed. "Have you managed to teach her how to use a mobile yet?"

Harry smiled. "She finds Muggle technology troublesome. I've tried, and I think she may know a thing or two, but…" He shrugged. "Perhaps we should all invest in mobiles, then we wouldn't have to worry about sticking our heads in the fire or owl poop."

The Muggle born gave a small giggle. "Yes, something like that," she commented. She glanced at Draco. "I'm finished for the day. Would you like to head home?"

A smirk played on Draco's lips. "Sure, love," he said.

She nodded and together, they left the Minister's office and headed back to the Manor.

(II)(II)

Draco was _pissed_! He had been _so close_! If Potter had not been there, he would be bringing Hermione Malfoy home instead of Hermione Granger. The morning papers would talk about them being married and no doubt there would be owls swooping in and out of the Manor. Hermione would be sleeping at the Manor in _his_ bed, that would actually be _their_ bed, and he would be working towards getting her pregnant with his child.

Grasping her hand in his, he led her through the Manor towards his private sitting room. "Maisey!" he shouted as they walked.

Hermione followed along silently, though she was smiling. Draco really wanted to wipe that smile off her face, but he said nothing towards her. A loud _Crack_ came beside them causing Hermione to jump. "Yes, Master Draco, sir?" the little house elf answered as she ran to keep up with the couple.

As Draco entered his sitting room, he released Hermione's hand and went to his personal bar. He didn't look at either the elf or the witch as he poured himself two fingers of firewhiskey and downed them in one go. He picked up the bottle and tipped it to pour some more, but only a few drops came out.

"Let Mother know I'm home," he told the elf as he grabbed the decanter of brandy. "And get me another bottle of firewhiskey." He finally turned and looked at Hermione. "Would you like something, love? Perhaps a butterbeer or juice?"

As the elf popped out of the room, Hermione stared at him in confusion. She crossed the room to him, took the glass out of his hand, and downed the drink herself. Both of his eyebrows raised in surprise at her audacity. She gave the now empty glass back to him, made a face, and began coughing. Draco rubbed her back and patted it, cooing soothingly as he did so.

"You shouldn't have drank so much so quickly," he said softly.

Tears gushed out of her eyes, but they weren't from sadness and she glanced up at him. "You… did it," she coughed with her hand over her mouth.

"I'm used to it, love," he told her. He cupped her jaw and used his thumb to wipe her tears away. Placing his empty glass on the table, he pulled her into an embrace, burying his face in her hair.

He felt her small arms wrap around his body and her hands run up and down his back. He closed his eyes at the feel of them and bit back a groan. Each rub she gave him shot jolts straight to his groin and he wanted nothing more than to pull her to the couch and take her.

He groaned as he reluctantly pulled away from her. Resting his forehead onto hers, he whispered, "I want you so badly." Opening his eyes, he looked into her honey orbs. "We should be married by now. This should be our wedding night."

She gave him a confused look and lifted her hand to touch his cheek. "We will be," she told him. Glancing down and pushing away from him, she turned her back to him to take a step away from him. "Harry was right, though. We were rushing it too quickly."

He growled as he turned back to his liquor cabinet. Where was Maisey with that bottle of firewhiskey? "'Harry was right'," he mocked gruffly. "Always agreeing with Potter."

"Draco, that's not fair," she said, turning to look at him.

He whipped his own body around. Angry, he snarled, "Not fair?! What's not fair, Hermione? You know that prat doesn't want us to marry. No doubt he's hoping to use these two weeks to try and convince you _not_ to marry me!" It only took him one step to move towards her again and he cupped her face with both of his hands. "From the moment I met you, Hermione, I've wanted to be with you, even though I didn't know it. For years, I've denied myself, pushing you further and further away from me because I didn't think I had a chance. Nine years later, we're _finally_ together and he's trying to keep us apart!"

Without warning, his lips crashed against hers in a desperate kiss. Wrapping his arms around her tiny frame, he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue between her lips. She returned his kiss with as much fervour, her hands fisting the back of his shirt. Running his hands down her sides, he reached down and grabbed her left leg, pulling it up as he lifted her slightly to walk towards the couch. She did not fight him and even wrapped her leg around his waist. When the back of her other leg hit against the couch, she pulled him down to her and, together, they practically fell onto the couch.

He pushed his hard on against her core and they both groaned at the feel. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist and his slacks offered just enough of a barrier. He lifted one hand to his shirt and began unbuttoning it as he continued to kiss her. Once all of the buttons were undone, he pulled his shirt off and tossed it away from them. Pulling her blouse out of her skirt, he began unbuttoning her blouse and pushed his hand under the blouse and cupped one breast.

Hermione gasped and arched her back and Draco smiled against her lips as he slipped his hand under her bra and ran a finger over her nipple. She lifted her arms and buried her hands in his hair as she pulled her mouth away from him so she could moan. "Oh, sweet Merlin," she gasped.

Draco trailed kisses along her jaw to her neck, nipping and sucking at it. Each mewl and purr she gave hardened his cock more and he pressed it against her, digging at her core. He began rocking his hips, causing his hardened member to rub deliciously on her and he groaned at the feel. He wanted more and slipped his hand out from her breast down to where her knickers covered her. He was pleasantly surprised to feel just a wet string where a proper slip of cloth should have been. He broke away from her neck to gaze down at her. Smirking, he hissed, "You naughty girl. Is that a pair of thongs you're wearing?"

Her blush was all the answer he needed and he attacked her neck again, licking a sensitive reddened area before nipping at it. His fingers worked at her clit as she moaned and mewled. He was encouraged by her response and allowed his fingers to explore more. She was so wet and slick. As he suckled on her neck, he removed his fingers to undo his fly. Taking out his heavy, aching member, he rubbed the bare head along her wet pussy lips and was rewarded with a loud moan. He moved his lips to hers, kissing her, and didn't see her eyes shoot open as he pressed his cock more persistently against her.

She shoved at him, breaking the kiss and croaking, "No!" She pushed at his chest more firmly. "Draco, stop!"

He wanted to push her back down as she slipped out from under him. Push her back down and force his cock into her pussy. It was obvious she wanted him. Her tender hole was ready and weeping for him. But he had promised and with a growl, he threw himself away from her, sitting properly on the couch as Hermione straightened her skirt and began buttoning her blouse. Draco did not bother fixing his trousers, letting his cock stand out, even stroking it some to keep it hard.

Hermione glanced at him and, blushing, quickly looked away. "Draco!" she admonished. "You shouldn't…"

"It's my room, Hermione," he reminded her. "And you'll be my wife soon. There's nothing wrong with you seeing my cock. In fact…" he straightened up more and touched her face, gently pulling her jaw towards him. "I want you to look at it." Their eyes met and he lifted an eyebrow. "Just look, love. It won't hurt just to look."

Her cheeks changed from pink to red as she glanced down at his lap. She had seen pictures, both moving and non-moving, of penises and how they looked in the various states of arousal. Reading books on sexual reproduction gave her more than a general idea of what they looked like and how they functioned. Pictures were nothing compared to the real thing.

It looked like a red, flesh covered rod with its blunt tip. She blinked and she could literally feel her heart pounding in her throat. He had been planning to have sex with her just now, but she had toyed with her opening before and she knew for a fact that the large rod he held would never have fit inside her. As her eyes widened, she was suddenly glad she had put a stop to it.

"It doesn't bite, you know," he told her as he relaxed against the couch. "You can touch it if you like."

Her eyes flew to his and she licked her lips. She started to shake her head when he quirked a brow. "Where's all that Gryffindor courage, Granger? Come on. I dare you to grasp it and give it a tug."

Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in her mouth, she reached out with a tentative hand and ran her fingers over the head. His cock jumped and she snatched her hand away. "It moved!" she whispered.

Chuckling, Draco sat up and moved closer to her. Taking her hand into his, he tilted his head towards hers, not quite resting his chin on her shoulder. "Here," he whispered, huskily. He guided her hand to wrap firmly around his cock. He closed his eyes, revelling in the feel of her fingers on his cock. Gently, he moved her hand up and down his shaft. "Just like that," he breathed, barely getting the words out.

Hermione looked at her hand curiously. His cock was so warm and velvety. Sure it felt almost as hard as a steel rod, but it twitched as she gently pumped it. Draco let go of her hand, leaning back to enjoy the feel of her massaging his cock, and she took the opportunity to explore it more thoroughly. It still bore its foreskin, and she found that fascinating the way the skin could be lifted over the head like a sleeve. The head of his cock was well defined with a distinct slit that ended in the smallest of holes.

As Narcissa burst into the room, the couple jumped. Draco quickly tucked his dick into his trousers and zipped them up as Hermione straightened her clothes. "Mum!" he yelped. "You could have knocked."

The matron was not fazed by her son's words, instead she seemed quite perturbed by the state the young couple was in. "Since when has it ever been appropriate for a young, unwed couple to be in the gentlemen's private chambers alone?" she asked calmly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "This isn't the fourteenth century anymore, Mother," he groused as he plopped back onto the couch. "Many couples our age are doing even worse and they are either in the bedroom or not even bothering with private rooms at all."

"I don't care what you and your friends did in the Slytherin Common Room, nor do I care what other couples your age do. You, Draco Lucius," she scowled, "are the Malfoy heir and I know your father and I raised you to be a gentleman, not some scoundrel. Now. Maisey should be drawing your bath as we speak and will have clothes put out for you for supper. I suggest you head on to your bathroom and clean up," she fussed.

Draco rolled his eyes and looked to Hermione. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment, and her hair was as wild as ever. He really wanted to take her with him so he could have his wicked way with her. She really looked lusciously fuckable. He groaned as he stood up and made his way to the door. "I'll see you both at supper," he told the two women. He then looked at Hermione. "You _will_ be at supper, won't you, love?"

She blinked and shuddered. She nodded quickly to answer his question and stared at him. She watched him leave, terrified of looking at Narcissa. The older witch would not be ignored however. "Come, child, and get up," the woman hissed.

Hermione closed her eyes and steeled her Gryffindor courage as she stood. Opening her eyes, she looked at Narcissa. For a moment, the two witches simply stared at one another and Hermione had the feeling the Pureblood was measuring her. It unnerved Hermione as she looked up into the cold blue eyes of the blond witch. She expected to be berated, possibly even thrown out and warned to never darken the doorstep of Malfoy Manor again. Instead, after a while, the older witch smiled.

"Those Malfoy men," the woman said breathlessly. "Forever stealing hearts and getting us to do whatever they want. Come, Hermione. If you are truly staying for supper, you'll want to dress in something more appropriate. I can show you to the guest rooms where some of my old clothes are. I'm sure we can find you something elegant and beautiful."

Hermione had blushed at the mention of Malfoy men, but stood and followed the Pureblood willingly. They walked down what seemed like an endless corridor. Narcissa spoke of the Malfoy family, the past deeds, and the possible future. She told the young girl what was expected of Malfoy women and men and the legacy she was gaining in marrying Draco.

"I know it may mean little to you, darling," the older witch stated. "I don't know much about Muggle customs, which can be a bit of a problem, however, Draco is a quick study and will catch on with little guidance. Give him a book to read, and he'll read it, study it, and know it from cover to cover. His father is much the same. I would not put it past either of them to have read and memorized every book within our library."

Hermione smiled. "Sounds like myself," she joked, glancing at the portraits as they walked. Narcissa named each portrait as they walked, but she did not really elaborate on who they were and the portraits did not say anything to her. They just stared at the witches as they walked past. Hermione supposed there was a book somewhere in the library that she would be expected to read and learn. Not that it mattered much for the studious Muggle born. She was forever curious and would learn all she could of the family she was joining.

"Yes," Narcissa absentmindedly agreed. She stopped and turned to look at the younger witch. "Will you start staying here?" she asked. "I received a letter from Lucius earlier and he said you were planning to marry by the end of the month."

Inwardly, Hermione glowered. Of course he would owl his wife to make sure she knew. The Muggle born nodded. "Draco had attempted to convince me to marry him today, to be honest, Narcis… Actually, might I make a request?"

The Pureblood smiled. "Of course, darling."

"Well, actually, two requests now that I think on it," Hermione corrected herself. "The first would be, of course, if you could help me plan the wedding. I almost went through with it today, but I would like to have a small ceremony with a few close friends and family. While Ginny is more than willing to help, I was hoping you would like to help as well? Draco told me you were quite talented at planning and executing parties."

The bushy haired witch did not think she had ever seen the proper Pureblood blush before, and yet a slight pinkish tint tinged the older witch's cheeks. "He does like to gloat, doesn't he?" she commented. "Of course I wouldn't mind helping you, darling. We could actually conduct the ceremony right here in the Manor. It is where Lucius and I married and every generation before ours. It's quite customary, in fact."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Thank you," she said. Clasping her hands in front of her, she continued to follow the older witch as they strolled down another corridor. "The second thing, and I do hope I'm not being too forward here, but Draco and I will be married soon," she pointed out. "I hope you don't mind if I start calling you 'Mother.' Only is customary in my own family. My mum called my father's mother 'Mother' until the day she died, and it's a tradition I would like to keep."

Narcissa's smile broadened and reached into her eyes. Stopping again, she took Hermione's hands in her own. "Nothing would make me happier, darling. Lucius mentioned in his letter that you had called him 'Father.'"

Hermione wrinkled her nose and placed a hand over her nose and mouth to hide her snort. Dropping her hand, she responded, "Yes, well, I had said that in a quite condescending way. Forgive my impertinence, but your husband can be quite irritating at times. I fear we may never truly get along."

Narcissa nodded as she opened a door and led Hermione into one of the largest, most beautiful set of rooms the Muggle born had ever seen. "You'll soon learn, darling, that the Malfoys can be quite conservative about some things. Give him time, though, and he'll eventually come around. Now. If you choose to stay, these will be your rooms until your wedding day. I'll leave you to get ready and dress for supper. Of course, after you marry, you'll move into Draco's room with him, unless the two of you decide otherwise."

"Thank you," the Muggle born said and the two witches embraced and touched cheeks.

"Now, once you're ready, just call for Maisey and she will lead you to the dining hall. I'll see you soon," the older witch said.

Bidding Narcissa good bye, Hermione quietly closed the door and turned around to look at the set of rooms.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So much happening here! Damn it, Potter! Always interfering in Draco's plans! *Giggles*

**Occupational Haz:** Things are certainly escalating and fast. Thankfully, Harry and Ginny do support her, regardless of how they may feel. However, I would hold those "I told you so"s. Hermione has a blind eye at the moment and isn't seeing everything clearly. Their concerns aren't unfounded, after all. If Draco and Hermione marry _before_ she catches on, it won't matter if she does or not. As been stated, Malfoys don't divorce, and even if Hermione wanted to fight it, there's a very good reason why she won't. (Something you'll learn later.) At this point, Lucius has very little to lose and he's actually gaining Hermione's trust by being honest with her. (Even if it's only slightly.) There's a reason for this, I promise.

**Kats02980416**: There will be many more meetings between Hermione and old Lucius. (Part of why I'm thinking of recanting the earlier statement of him _not_ trying anything with her. Chapter 17 is about done and you'll see what I mean once you read it. And Draco is _very_ insecure, but for good reason. You're looking at 9 years.

**LanaLee1:** I'm actually surprised. I had something else written where Draco really got nasty with Hannah, but I deleted it. He's holding back a lot because of Hermione. (That's not maturity so much as trying to impress.)

**meek:** I have no idea what s2g means, however I'm sure Hermione knows that sharing a bed does not equate to having sex. I mean, she shared a tent with Ron and Harry for months and nothing happened. But given that she sees Harry as her brother and Ron has the emotional range of a teaspoon, her relationship with Draco is _vastly_ different. There's little doubt that she fears a night sleeping in his bed would end differently than, say, a night in Ron or Harry's bed. (Even though she and Ron did date.)

**Chester99:** I am right there with you on Hannah. I picture her to be the type of girl who would want to know everything about everyone and think little of whether she's interrupting, etc. She did freely talk about Harry behind his back in their 2nd year (about being Slytherin's heir and to Ernie McMillian.)

Oh, and Lucius... *sigh* He's going to be delightful. :)

Again, thank you all for your reviews! I really do love reading your feedback. Chapter 17 should be coming soon!


	17. Chapter 17

The next couple days passed back rather quickly for Hermione. When she had woken up the next day at the Manor, she and Draco had spoken of her moving into the Manor, though it had been Narcissa's suggestion originally, Hermione had her reservations. After a lengthy conversation of pros and cons, Draco finally won and he had let Maisey know the Muggle born was moving to the Manor. By that night, all of Hermione's belongings had been moved from her flat into the set of rooms Narcissa had put aside for the Muggle born. The lease on the flat had been broken and the dues paid.

Ginny had joined Hermione and Narcissa in the planning of the wedding. Even Luna had join them, much to the Muggle born's surprise.

"Are you sure you don't mind, Luna?" Hermione had asked the Ravenclaw. "I know you had spent time here imprisoned during the war…"

But the wispy girl hadn't minded at all. Together the girls had shopped for what they needed, including Narcissa as much as they could. Draco even joined them from time to time, though he had spent more time than not in his sitting room with Theodore and Blaise, reminiscing their times at school and talking about their own respective futures.

"I hope you don't mind my inviting Miss Patil to your wedding, Draco," Blaise had said over his glass of firewhiskey.

Draco shrugged. "I think she and Hermione are friends, so I don't see a problem there," he said. "You'll have to ask Hermione, though. She and my mum have been frantic going over that ruddy guest list. Mum would invite all of Aristocratic Wizarding Britain if Hermione allowed her. Personally, I had to turn down the idea of having our colours be ruby red and emerald green."

Theodore laughed. "Your entire wedding would look like Christmas in July!" he chuckled and Zabini joined in his laughter.

Draco made a sour face as he drawled, "Which is why I was so adamantly against it. Thankfully, Hermione was, too. She actually prefers some sort of light pink colour, so we went with rose and… I think a powdered blue, if I recall."

"Merlin's beard, Malfoy! Is Granger pregnant?" Blaise asked as he poured himself some more firewhiskey.

The blond shook his head. "I should bloody well hope not! If so we're looking at immaculate conception and I will have a number of issues with that."

"No kidding!" Theodore agreed. "Getting the bun in the oven without even mixing the batter first? Where's the fun in that?"

"Have you been spending time at that bakery again, Nott?" Blaise joked. "Careful or you might get a bun in the oven yourself."

Theodore snorted. "I'm not a woman, Zabini," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

"No, but he's right," Draco pointed out, leaning against the table. "If you keep riding your broom through the hoops, you're going to get one pregnant. Then what are you going to do? This isn't the nineteenth century. You can't pretend they don't exist anymore. They will strap you with child support for at least the next eighteen years, and that's if you don't marry the wench."

All three men frowned at Draco's words. He hated even thinking about them, but despite his own faults, Draco did care for his friends, especially the two sitting before him. Finally, Theodore spoke, "You're counting on the idea that they can prove I'm the father."

Draco had read enough Muggle journals that he pointed his drink at the dark haired man. "They can and they will," he cautioned the man.

"Most of these advances started with those fucking Muggles," Blaise sneered, glancing down at his tumbler. "Lucky I found a nice little witch to warm my bed. Wouldn't bother me if her stomach began to swell with my child."

Draco nodded. "I feel the same. I can't tell the two of you the amount of times I've dreamt of Granger plump with my kid in her belly."

"It won't be long now and you can turn that fantasy into a reality, Malfoy," Theodore stated. "When is this wedding taking place again?"

"The thirtieth," Draco responded. "Father should be coming home the week after, and Hermione wants to make sure it's done and over with by then."

Blaise frowned. "How the bloody hell did you convince her to marry you so soon?"

The blond shrugged as he finished his drink. "I had help," he told the man. "Between you two, my mother, and my own talking to her about it, I somehow got lucky. I'm not sure if it's just her missing her family or feeling guilty or both, but I won't complain."

(II)(II)

She found him standing in the stock room at the back of an old supply store in Hogsmeade. They were renovating it to start carrying textbooks on the off chance children might forget to get a book or two at Flourish and Blotts. Hermione watched the man as he pulled down a box from a high shelf.

"Hello, Gregory," she said.

The man did not look at her, but walked past her towards one of the aisles of the store and opened the box. "What do you want, Miss Granger?" he asked, though there was little politeness in his tone.

She still offered him a smile. "How are you doing? I've heard you started dating Pansy."

He glanced at her and his eyes narrowed as they shot to the ring on her finger and back up to her eyes. "And I heard you were marrying Malfoy. Looks like the rumours are true," he spat before turning back to his unpacking. "What's it to you anyway? Didn't think you cared much what happened to us Purebloods, or has Malfoy managed to change your mind of us?" He looked at her again and a sneer played on his lips. "Thinking of trying to purify your blood? Sorry, princess, but no amount of shagging even the purest, richest of us will make your blood any less dirty. No matter how hard you try."

Frowning, she rolled her eyes. "Witty," she said sarcastically. "Did you come up with that on your own?" She sighed. "Look. Draco and I are getting married Thursday next. I would like to extend an invitation to you and Pansy if you'd like to come," she said.

Again, he did not look at her as he started stocking the books. "Why do you think we would want to come watch Malfoy marry some Mudblood? Even if you are the Gryffindor Princess and Golden Girl of the Trio."

"Because you're his friend?" she replied shrewdly. "Honestly, Goyle. Pansy has already gotten past all the old prejudices, why can't you?"

He turned on her and glared. "If you want Pansy to come, why don't you ask her? I've no interest in attending. And Malfoy was never my friend. Before Hogwarts, he could hardly be bothered with the likes of me or Crabbe. After the war, I never once received a single owl from the self-righteous git. Birthdays and holidays pass and not one word. He knew Crabbe was my best friend and yet he couldn't even lower himself enough to attend his fucking funeral. So, no, Granger, I don't want to go to your bloody wedding."

She had taken a step back when he had started talking, a bit of his spittle had fallen on her shoulder, but she ignored it. "I'm truly sorry for your loss, Gregory," she told him.

He threw a hand up in the air. "Don't talk to me like we're old friends," he growled. "I didn't like you when we were in school and I sure as bloody hell don't like you now." Silence followed his statement as Hermione debated on what to do. He stocked a few more books before pulling out his wand and summoning another box to him. The box fell nearly a foot away and he grunted sticking his wand behind his ear. "Bloody spells," he swore under his breath.

As natural, Hermione stepped forward to help him, but a glare from his beady brown eyes stopped her. "I blame you," he told her. "Both of you. Malfoy for leading us into that hellish nightmare and you for angering Crabbe enough to cause him to cast that ruddy spell. Even you couldn't bother to attend his funeral, yet I know for a fact you had gone to the service they held for the Dark Lord. "

"It wasn't a ceremony to honour him," she pointed out. "As for Crabbe, I…"

"Save it, Granger," he snapped as he began stocking the new box of books. "Your excuses are useless. You and Malfoy deserve one another. You act like the only people victimized during the war were yourselves and the bloody 'Order'. Never mind all of us little people who fought that damn war, too."

Hermione's eyes blazed at that. "You don't know what you're talking about, Goyle," she snapped. "I, and many of us, helped rebuild that school and volunteered at St. Mungo's. I pulled nearly twenty hours each day for five days a week following the war. And once school started, I worked hard to keep my good grades. Weekends during that year were spent on the rebuild and I didn't have any vacations. I lost my family, Gregory, and nearly my life. I didn't tell Crabbe to cast that curse and Draco had warned him not to. It was his own fault and I'm sorry I didn't go to his funeral, but I was too busy attending the countless funerals of my own friends who actually fought to end that bloody war and tyranny! Vincent had a choice and he chose wrong. That's not my fault, nor is it Draco's. Yes, you followed him, I get that. I watched the three of you throughout school. But you did that of your own free will."

Goyle huffed as he placed the last book on the shelf and summoned another box. "Me, Malfoy, and Crabbe were all sons of Death Eaters, Granger," he told her. "Crabbe and I figured that if we followed him, then he would be able to get us in good with the Dark Lord. Hell, his father was part of the Dark Lord's inner bloody circle."

"And now Lucius sits in a cell in Azkaban with both of your fathers while Voldemort remains buried six feet under," she scowled. "So we both see how well that worked out for them, don't we?"

It seemed a thought occurred to Goyle and he actually gave Hermione a close lipped smile. "And Lucius Malfoy's only son is marrying a Mudblood. Not just any Mudblood, but the very Mudblood who put Lucius behind bars. No doubt he was just… overjoyed when he learned about it. One of the oldest pureblood families in Great Britain is about to be tainted by filth."

Hermione sighed again. "You don't have to come, Gregory," she told him.

"Damn right I don't," he snapped. "And stop calling me 'Gregory'. I didn't give you permission to use my given name. As far as you're concerned, it's Goyle."

She nodded. "Well, if you do decide to come, the wedding will be at the Manor on Thursday, the 30th." She watched him a moment longer. "I'll see you around, Goyle," she said to him as she turned and walked away.

(III)(III)

There were many invitations to be sent out. For such a small, private wedding, they had a lot of guests. There were three however that Hermione felt should be hand delivered their invitations. The first had been Goyle and his reaction was the very reason she wanted to see them personally delivered. Sending them by owl just seemed too impersonal.

She took a deep breath. Goyle had been the hardest one, or so she hoped as she knocked on the thick wooden door. The Parkinsons were by no means a poor family. Though they weren't exactly the wealthiest of families either. From what Hermione knew through reading, Mr. Parkinson had earned his living working in St. Mungo's developing counter curses for the spells children would accidentally cast on one another before attending Hogwarts. It was hard work given that most of the time, you couldn't tell what sort of spells had been used and, so, it ended up being more guess work than anything.

The sounds of her knocks echoed, causing Hermione to think of an empty, hollowed out shell. She felt her heart fall, knowing that the family home couldn't be as vacant as the sound made it seem. The old heavy door creaked on its hinges as it was pulled open by an ancient house elf in a tattered pillow case. Its red eyes gave her an unfriendly glare and for some unknown reason, Hermione felt she should fear this elf.

Straightening, she pushed her fears down and spoke clearly, "I'm looking for Miss Pansy Parkinson. May I speak with her, please?"

"Miss Pansy has no need for Mudbloods," the elf sneered and started to close the door.

"Tobias!" shouted a feminine voice Hermione recognized. Breathing a sigh of relief, the Gryffindor smiled as the Pureblooded girl pulled the door back open. Pansy wasn't looking at Hermione, however, but glaring at the elf. "Go back to the kitchen and clean up that mess! Worthless piece of trash!"

Looking up, Pansy pushed her hair out of her eyes and straightened her throat. "What do you want, Granger?" she asked. "Draco's next birthday isn't for another year."

Hermione gave a nervous laugh. She wanted to say something to Pansy about the way she treated her house elf, but knew this was neither the time nor the place. "I'm not planning another birthday party," she confessed. "Though, I was hoping to invite you to a celebration." She produced a silver lined golden envelope and held it out for Pansy to take.

"What's this?" the Pureblood asked as she took the envelope from Hermione and opened it. She pulled out the card and scanned the contents. Glancing back up at the Muggle born, she commented matter-of-factly, "So you and Draco are getting married. Does Lucius know?"

Hermione nodded. "I won't say he's pleased with the circumstances, but with him currently being in prison…"

"Is that why it's so soon? Didn't the two of you just started dating last week?"

"Actually, it's been nearly a month now, I think," the Gryffindor confessed. "But that was the stipulation Lucius gave me. If his son and I wanted to marry, we needed to do so before he was released from prison."

Pansy frowned. "Is he expected to be released soon?"

Hermione shrugged and looked away slightly. "He's been working with Minister Shacklebolt, from what I know. I think the Minister is going to cut him a deal."

"More like create a host of new enemies for him," the Slytherin snarked. "So, this wedding. Am I allowed to bring someone or is it just me?"

Hermione glanced up at her. "I've already seen Goyle. I tried inviting him, but he wouldn't even look at the invitation."

"Oh, I don't doubt that, Granger," Pansy said. "But that's not who I was talking about. He isn't exactly someone I would bring to a wedding… I was actually thinking of Millicent."

"Oh!" Hermione said, smiling, "I've already invited her. She sent me her RSVP shortly after I sent her the invitation."

The Slytherin lifted an eyebrow. "You mean you didn't go to her house and personally invite her?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, I thought of doing so, but when I mentioned it to Narcissa, she didn't think it would be a good idea. She told me that Millicent's family had been strong supporters of Voldemort and even alluded to the idea that Millicent's father might have been a Death Eater."

"Mr. Bullstrode wasn't a Death Eater," Pansy said with certainty. "He had been approached by the Dark Lord, but he didn't have the stomach to join. However, Narcissa is correct about them being supporters of the Dark Lord's cause."

The Muggle born nodded. "So… will you come?" she asked, almost hopefully.

Pansy's eyes narrowed for a moment while she thought about it. Finally, she shrugged. "I don't see why not," she admitted. "It'll be interesting to see Britain's most eligible Pureblood bachelor get tied to a Muggle born."

Hermione grimaced. She wasn't sure that she liked that response, but it was certainly better than what Goyle had said to her. She shook her head and gave the Pureblood a smile. "Thank you, Pansy. I know Draco will be pleased to see you there."

"Speaking of Draco, why isn't he with you? Given this is his wedding, too, you'd think he would come with you on these little meet and greets."

The Muggle born shrugged. "I could make up an excuse, but I really don't feel like lying. Let's just suffice it to say that he didn't really feel the need to come? He actually thought it a bit silly when I had suggested it and warned me about doing it. His mother and I didn't think he needed to know that I had decided to come anyway."

"Tut, tut, Granger. I think your husband to be is rubbing off on you," the Slytherin said. "Word of advice, woman to woman?"

Hermione nodded, curious to know what she had to say.

"I'm sure you've heard by now that Goyle and I are dating," Pansy said, leaning against her door frame. "I know how observant you are about these things. If you've spoken to Goyle, like you've told me you have, then you know how much he hates both you and Draco. He blames you both for Vincent's death, though I've told him countless times the fault did not lie with either of you." She sighed. "Nearly twenty years and that man still has something of a thick head." Her eyes narrowed. "Draco is immensely protective of what he thinks is his. While he'll forgive you going behind his back, I know the moment you tell him what you've done, he'll warn you about approaching Goyle again. I would heed his words. In fact… any time Draco makes it a point to warn you or order you to do something, whether you like it or not, I would do it. He may be sweet and loving now, and you may have already had your disagreements, but you've never seen him truly angry, even in school. That isn't something you want to witness."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I've taken on an entire army of Death Eaters. I'm not afraid of whatever it is you think Draco might try. Besides, if he does try anything, I can simply leave."

Pansy laughed. "Is that what you think you'll do? Just leave?" Still chuckling, she shook her head. "You'd never get a divorce. The Malfoys don't believe in it. Once you're married, that's it." Her laughter disappeared as quickly as it came. "When Draco tells you to do something, you do it. Not because he's being mean or controlling. You do it because he's protecting you. His family are a loyal lot to one another and once you're married to one, you're married to them all. Lucius and Narcissa will become parents to you." As if realizing what she had said, Pansy stretched out her arm and placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I know they'll never replace your real parents," she said before Hermione had the chance to say anything. "But, believe it or not, they are good people. At least to their own. I do know that the first child Narcissa had been pregnant with had been a girl and she had always wanted a daughter, especially since she lost that baby. The moment you marry Draco, you'll be safe, and it won't just be Draco being protective of you. It may take a bit, given that you are Muggle born, but from what you've told me at the Ministry, she's already warming up to you."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't imagine Lucius ever keeping her from harm, though she did have the feeling that Draco would die for her if necessary. Of course, he'd go kicking and screaming…

The Muggle born thanked the Pureblood again and the two said their goodbyes. Pulling out the final card, Hermione checked it and sighed. One more stop and hopefully, it won't be nearly as difficult as Goyle had been.

(IV)(IV)

It had been a few months since Hermione had last seen Andromeda Tonks. On a good note, the Muggle born had made it a point to be at the memorial services for Ted, Remus, and Tonks, and she had done more than her fair share of crying.

The moment she lifted her hand to knock, the door opened. Startled, Hermione took a step back and came face to face with the Pureblood witch. "Andromeda!" she greeted with a smile.

The older witch returned her smile. "Ah, Miss Granger. I thought that was you. Please, do come in. I've been expecting you."

This surprised the Muggle born even more. "You were?" she asked.

The Slytherin witch pulled out yesterday's issue of the _Daily Prophet _and showed it to the younger witch. "I had a feeling you would come here offering me an invitation to your wedding," she said with a smile. "Or, at least, I assumed you would. Draco is my nephew, after all, no matter how strained his mother and I are."

"So you're coming?" Hermione asked a bit more excited than she had expected to be.

Andromeda gave a single nod. "But first, I would like to speak with you, Miss Granger, if you don't mind."

The young witch was so thrilled she had to stop herself from squealing. Of all the people she was inviting to the wedding, this was the one woman she wanted there the most. Andromeda knew what Hermione and Draco were going through and what they will go through after they married.

"Would you like some tea?" the Pureblood witch offered as she led Hermione into the sitting room.

The house wasn't very large, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in elegance. The sitting room was decorated in soft, warm tones with potted shrubbery "guarding" the doors. The Pureblood witch indicated a cloth covered green couch for Hermione to sit upon and the Muggle born felt compelled to sit on the edge with her legs tucked under her. "Tea sounds lovely, Mrs. Tonks," she responded as she glanced around the room.

The entire room reminded her of the sitting room she often joined Narcissa in, but was much smaller and less… expensive looking. "You have a beautiful home," the Muggle born commented as Andromeda handed her a teacup.

Sitting in the chair next to Hermione, the Pureblood former aristocrat picked up a flower decorated teapot and poured some tea in Hermione's cup before pouring some in her own. "So, do you have the invitation?" the Pureblood asked as she placed the teapot on the small table between them.

"Oh, yes!" Hermione replied reaching into her robes and producing the envelope.

Andromeda took the envelope and opened it. Like Pansy, she gently pulled the invitation out and read it. "June 30th? Bit soon, don't you think?" she asked, glancing up at the Muggle born. "How long have the two of you been engaged?"

Hermione blushed and took a sip of her drink. Placing her cup back on the small saucer, she stared at her drink as she answered, "It's been nearly a week now, I believe." She glanced up at the older witch. "Draco and I started dating on his birthday and it's been a whirlwind since."

"Indeed," Andromeda said slowly. "And the reason for this is?"

The Muggle born shrugged. "It started when he came to my office and consoled me after I had an argument with Ron."

"Why were you arguing?"

Hermione gave a slight snort. "We were always fighting over something. That day in particular was over this boutique of flowers I had received from a secret admirer. They turned out to be from Draco, but at the time, I didn't know. However, Ronald seemed to think I was cheating on him and we got into a nasty row that led to him breaking up with me. All because I wouldn't tell him who sent them."

"And it just so happened Draco was there," the Slytherin finished for her.

Hermione nodded. "Over the course of the next few days or so, he would come to my office around lunchtime and offer to bring me out to lunch."

"And you never denied him?"

The Muggle born shrugged. "Well, I was hungry," she admitted. "And he always chooses the best of places."

"Of course," Andromeda commented as she took a sip from her own drink. "The Malfoys will always have the best. Keep that in mind, dear. The best restaurants, best dogs, best wives."

"Best wives?" the young witch questioned with a frown.

Andromeda gave a single nod. "Lucius married Narcissa, who was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, Prefect, and Head Girl in her year. Abraxas, Lucius's father, also married the most beautiful girl from his years of Hogwarts. She too had been both a Prefect and Head Girl. His father had done the same. Do you see the pattern?"

Hermione felt an odd lump in the pit of her stomach as she slowly nodded. "But I wasn't the most beautiful, and I never made Head Girl," she explained.

The Pureblood smiled. "Yet, you would have, Miss Granger. I've spoken to Severus's portrait since his death. Both he and Dumbledore agreed that you would have made Head Girl had you been allowed to attend school that year. No doubt Draco knows this, as he and Severus were rather close. After all, Severus and Lucius were close and Lucius had named Severus godfather when Draco was born," she pointed out. "Draco would have spent, and did spend, many hours in Severus's office."

The Muggle born had a hard time wrapping her mind around this. "So… what are you saying? That Draco's only interested in me because I was going to be Head Girl?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't doubt he finds you attractive, Miss Granger," Andromeda said. "I was merely pointing out that you are the best and Malfoys always get the best. His attraction lays in more than just your beauty and your brains. But don't let that dissuade you."

"I wasn't planning on it," Hermione said shortly. "Is that why you invited me in, Mrs. Tonks? To point out that I might just be another notch on Draco's bedpost?"

Both of Andromeda's eyebrows raised as she placed her teacup and saucer on the small table. "Indeed not," she said. "Though it shouldn't come as a surprise to you, dear girl. Even I have heard the rumours of my nephew's prowess. He is his father's son after all." She shook her head delicately. "Lucius is actually the reason I wanted to speak with you. Well, him and my sister."

"Narcissa has been very kind to me since Draco and I started dating," Hermione defended.

The Pureblood gave a ladylike sniff. "Again, I do not doubt your words, Miss Granger," she replied. "With your reputation, I'd wager she's already making plans to use this marriage to her advantage. Remember, my dear, she is my sister. I've known her all her life. What of your soon-to-be father-in-law? What has he said about it?"

Hermione sighed. "He doesn't like it, but he has said that if we marry before he gets out of prison, he won't protest it. That's why there's such a rush, honestly," she said as she picked up her own cup and finished her drink. Grimacing, she continued, "I don't want any confrontations. Draco and I love one another."

"After only dating for what? A week? Two?"

The Gryffindor closed her eyes and shook her head. "He's been in love with me since our fourth year and I've… Well, honestly…" she opened her eyes and met the Pureblood's eyes with certainty. "I kept my own attraction buried for years. His bullying didn't help either. When I found out he became a Death Eater, I pushed it back even further. By that time, it became apparent to me that even if I found him attractive, there was no way the feeling would ever be mutual."

"And yet it was," the older witch said. "With his father out of the way, the two of you are free to fall in love and begin making plans for the future. Pardon me for my rather personal question, Miss Granger, but are you a virgin?"

Hermione blinked in shock. "I'm sorry?"

"Forgive me, but if he's proposing marriage, I can only assume that you are," the Slytherin explained. "A Malfoy would never marry less. You said you needed to marry before Lucius gets out of prison. Are you expecting his release soon?"

Smiling, the Gryffindor nodded. "He and Minister Shacklebolt made a deal. He's been giving information on other Death Eaters and their whereabouts."

"That doesn't surprise me," Andromeda stated. "It's what he did after the First War, too, though he also had the advantage of claiming the Imperius Curse. He can't use that excuse this time, so no doubt he's upping his game, so to speak." She gave Hermione a measured look. "It's interesting how all three of them are timing this, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Draco finds you and the two of you fall in love. Narcissa starts getting to know you. I'm sure she's calling you her daughter by now, which is something I know she's always wanted. And now Lucius is going to be out of prison, right after you marry his son," she said. She sat back in her chair and smiled, shaking her head. "Such clever snakes, aren't they?"

Hermione had never been someone to take so long to catch on, nor had she ever needed someone to point out the obvious. Hadn't Lucius told her basically the same thing? She sat up straight and nearly dropped her cup. "Oh, my God!" She paled as she looked at Andromeda. "What do I do? How do I proceed?"

Andromeda shrugged. "Marry him," she said simply. At Hermione's astonished look, the Pureblood sighed. "You do love him, right? And of course he loves you. Don't doubt that, Miss Granger. However, now that you are aware, you can turn the tables. Use your marriage to your own advantage. Plus, now that you know, you'll be able to be aware of the other little games they'll try to play."

The Muggle born slowly nodded as she stared unseeing at her cup. She knew Draco had sent those flowers, but had he known what Ron's reaction would be? Now that she thought about it, truly thought about it, it was odd that he just happened down that corridor right after her row with Ron. And Maisey rarely ever left his side. Was that on purpose, too? What was his angle there?

"I should give you some warnings," Andromeda spoke, breaking Hermione out of her trance. "First. Once you're married, Narcissa is going to want to start inviting people to the Manor and hosting parties again. She'll go through all the motions and even teach you how do to it yourself. My advice is to listen to what she tells you. Over the next few weeks or months, she's going to treat you like the daughter she's never had. You can learn a lot from her. Don't let the privilege go to waste. Once she's sure of her own personal stature, she'll slowly stop being so gentile. After all, you're still a Muggle born." Hermione opened her mouth, but the Pureblood held up her hand. "Don't let her fool you, Miss Granger. Don't let any of them fool you. Draco loves you. Because of this, Narcissa and Lucius will tolerate you. But not a single one of them like Muggles or Muggle borns. The _only_ reason Narcissa has any interest in you at all is because of what you will mean to the family."

The Pureblood paused a moment to allow those words to sink in for Hermione. "Secondly," she continued, "Lucius will be coming out of prison soon. There are two things you need to make certain of. When you came here today and I offered you tea, you took the first sip. _Never_ do that with any drink Lucius offers you. His family business deals with potions. He knows enough about potions, herbs, and poisons to outdo Severus Snape." She stared at the younger witch. "The other thing, never sit in a room alone with him. Remember, I knew him as a boy, a teenager, and as a man. I know you've been told several times by now that he wasn't made a Death Eater just because his vault is larger than the Queen of England's castle. Narcissa does not say anything about his… conquests because he never does anything openly.

"I don't believe he would actually do anything to you," she assured, though she looked a bit uncertain, "however, I wouldn't put it pass him. After all, even a Muggle looks the same as a witch when the lights are out."

Hermione's eyes widened. What was she getting herself into? She shook her head. "But I can talk to Draco," she said. "I can convince him that his parents don't need to be living in the house with us, right? I mean, they have so many homes all over Europe."

Andromeda seemed to think on this for a moment before giving a small nod. "It's possible they may allow you and Draco the Manor for a short time. You will be newlyweds and working on your first child, after all."

"My first…"

The Pureblood nodded. "That brings me to my third. Draco," she stated. "You may be interested in a career, Miss Granger, however, going to the Ministry everyday will be nearly impossible when you have a babe on your hip. And you will get pregnant, do not doubt that. The estate is large. I'm sure Draco's given you a tour by now and has given you an overview of what they do. My advice would be to find something there that you can do. There's potions, herbology, breeding, accounting, managing… any number of things. You could even clean stalls in their stables if you like," she suggested with a shrug. "Don't do that, though. While Draco may have 'forgotten' your Muggle blood, neither Narcissa nor Lucius have. You do not want to give them more ammunition for their animosity. However, try to choose something that you can work on at the estate. Trust me. When you have a screaming toddler running around, you'll want to stay home. The first eleven years of a child's life are the most crucial as they will learn everything from you and your husband."

"And their grandparents," the younger witch grumbled. "Unless I can convince them to leave."

The Slytherin gave a slight nod. "I wouldn't count on that, however," she said. "Lucius' life is his estate. He could handle a couple months away, but he won't stay away indefinitely. And once Lucius is out of prison, you'll rarely see Narcissa away."

Hermione frowned. "If she's rarely away, then how would Lucius be able to… you know… that?"

Andromeda shrugged. "We went to school together and Lucius and Narcissa dated almost the entire time. However, he was often seen luring a witch or two into the boys' dormitories with his mates. Narcissa knew, but I'm not sure she cared. She was a virgin when they married."

The Muggle born held up a hand. "Hang on," she stopped the older witch. "Narcissa said they didn't marry right after Hogwarts. In fact, Lucius courted a Muggle."

The Pureblood raised an eyebrow. "Did he?" she asked, almost as though she had been unaware. "What Muggle?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure? Though, she did say something about the royal bloodline," she explained. "Maybe someone not as closely related? I don't know. I've wanted to look more into it…"

Andromeda gave a single, subtle shake of her head. "It's not important," she said. "Lucius was just starting as a Death Eater at the time. No doubt he was attempting to lure some unfortunate Muggle for Voldemort's sick pleasure." She sighed. "I wouldn't worry about it, however, as I've said before, I would exhibit caution when you're around them. Never take the first drink, Miss Granger. Watch them. If they pour drinks from a single decanter, let them taste it first. If they should hand you a Butterbeer or some other drink that is single serve, don't drink it."

"You said 'they'," the Muggle born pointed out with a frown. "You were saying just Lucius at first. Should I worry Narcissa…?"

Andromeda sighed. "Right now, no, and maybe not even after Lucius gets out. I don't know how things will be once he's home. I'm just going by what I know from when we were younger."

"So things might have changed," Hermione suggested. "Lucius is about to get out of Azkaban. I doubt he'll fancy going back in…"

The Pureblood's eyes narrowed. "And if he does try something, are you going to tell someone?" she hissed. "Miss Granger, what do you know of Draco and his family? You wish to marry him, but how well do you actually know him?"

"We talk…"

"You talk!" Andromeda interrupted scathingly. "You cannot rely on words, Miss Granger. The Malfoys are artists at weaving the English language. If you aren't careful, they'll have you believing that whatever they are doing, no matter how wrong it is, is a good thing. Do not let naivety and missing your parents cloud your judgement."

The Gryffindor's frown deepened. Pansy had said the Malfoys were good people, which Hermione did not believe for one moment, especially in relation to Lucius. Andromeda, who had known them for a good bit of her life, was warning Hermione to exercise extreme caution. While she could understand doing so with Lucius, neither Narcissa nor Draco had given her any reason to doubt their sincerity since Hermione had started dating the Pureblood wizard. Sure, Andromeda had mentioned a few things that had given the Muggle born a start, but that was more to do with Draco scheming to get Hermione to marry him. It was romantic, not evil.

While the Muggle born was alarmed at what Andromeda had said about Lucius, she knew there was little to worry about with Draco or his mother. She would have to talk to Draco.

* * *

**Author's Note: **It's amazing how much people like to think they know someone, huh? Especially when you've not seen those people in so many years.

**Occupational Haz: **Draco does need to dial back the forcefulness of telling her to do things. I understand why he told her that, but yeah. It was a bit nasty. I'm not sure about Narcissa, though given that she's always wanted a daughter, I can see her and Hermione getting along. And Hermione can try to ruin the Malfoy reputation all she wants. Technically it's already in the mud. However, if she does that too much, she's going to end up ruining her own name too.

**Kats02980416:** See? That's why Draco told her that Ron can't be part of their wedding. It's supposed to be between Hermione and Draco. Not Hermione, Draco, and Ron, and that's what Draco fears will happen. That is, if Ron doesn't try to interrupt the wedding.

**Chester99: **Funny thing about Ron and Hermione's relationship: even JK stated that she thought it was a mistake to put those two together. She even admitted that she had decided that on a whim and her own little pipe dream. Kinda funny if you think about it.


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione stared in horror as the woman gave her an insane grin. "Let's see how dirty your blood is," the woman said as she waved her wand at Hermione. "_Crucio!_"

The pain woke Hermione up and she nearly jumped out of bed. She looked around the room frantically. Snatching her wand from the nightstand, she cast _Lumos_ and glanced about, expelling the shadows as much as she could. Throwing her covers off of her, she crawled out of bed and looked around for her dressing gown.

She hadn't been able to speak to Draco when she returned to the Manor. The moment she walked into the large home, Narcissa had taken her by the hand and led her to her bedroom. Together, they went through the massive closet and decided which clothes Hermione liked and which ones she didn't. Hermione wasn't overly fond of dresses, however, upon seeing Narcissa's old wardrobe, she found herself rethinking her preferences. Once they had chosen about four dresses, Narcissa had promised Hermione that they would go to Twilfitt and Tatting's the following morning.

By the time they had finished, Hermione was so tired that she was barely able to stay awake long enough to sit through supper. She went to bed hoping to get a good night's rest. Finding her dressing gown, she wrapped it around her shoulders. She wished she had paid attention to where Draco's rooms were.

Stepping out into the hallway, the Muggle born raised her glowing wand and looking down the empty corridor. She closed her eyes and visualized the rooms before she realized that she had only ever seen his sitting room. Snapping her eyes open, she took a deep breath and started down the hall, hoping she was going the right way. She had cast a silent revealing spell at each door she came to, but found nothing.

Finally getting to the end of the hall, the Gryffindor frowned. Perhaps at a later date she could create a map similar to the Marauder's Map of Malfoy Manor. She sighed. "Bit late for that, Hermione," she whispered to herself and turned down another corridor.

She became frustrated when she came upon a seemingly dead end. However, she noticed a small knob sticking out from the wall. Curiosity dared her to try and turn it. To her pleasant surprise, the wall cracked to reveal a door. Smiling, she pulled the door open and slipped into the room. She nearly dropped her wand at the sight before her.

The room was vast and reminded her of a music room. A black grand piano sat against the far wall. In front of it were several rows of chairs. There was a harp next to the piano. Hermione stepped further into the room. Near her to the right was a set of armchairs and a table. Behind the chairs was a black bookcase that carried several books and, curious, Hermione moved to them and perused the titles. "Oh!" she breathed when she saw that the books were actually books full of sheet music. She saw titles from Mozart and Beethoven.

Pulling a book titled "Bach's Greatest Works" she carefully opened it and was further surprised to find full songs from one of her all-time favourite composers. _Did the Malfoys actually play these?_ She wondered as she closed the book and placed it back on the shelf.

Turning, she saw a table on the other side of the room with a Wizard's chess board etched atop it. She crossed the room to look at the table and was astonished to see the table had been made of solid marble. The etchings of the chess board made her eyes widened. It wasn't just scratches. Running her fingers over the deep grooves, she imagined it had taken the artist hours.

Glancing up she saw another bookshelf, this one by the chess board. Each shelf had a different set of chess pieces. She blinked several times and wondered just how many pieces they needed. One set in particular actually had dragons for rooks and she knew this had to be Draco's set.

Lifting a hand, she touched one of the dragons and jumped in shock. She knew the pieces moved, but she had forgotten. The dragon eyed her, tilting its head this way and that, much like a lizard would do. Then, it lazily stretched its wings and, still staring at her, it turned in its spot and settled down. It opened its maw in a mock yawn.

"Hermione?" said a masculine voice and the Muggle born turned to see Draco standing in the doorway.

Like her, he wore a nearly floor length silk dressing gown. His gown, however, was green with silver lining. On his left chest was the Slytherin crest and Hermione suspected a larger crest graced his back. It amazed her how much the Malfoy family took pride in their Hogwarts House.

She smiled. "Hey," she said softly.

He gave her a slight nod and approached her. Slipping a hand around her waist, he gazed down into her eyes. "Are you alright, love?" he asked.

Her brows furrowed. "I could be better," she admitted honestly. "I had a terrible dream and came to find you."

He lifted a single blond brow. "Well," he said as he looked around the room, "this isn't really the right place."

Her smile widened. "Well, I found you, didn't I?" she pointed out.

He chuckled and kissed the top of her forehead. "Maisey told me you were wandering the halls and said you were heading to the drawing room," he explained. "Concerned, I came here."

She froze. She had thought she had stumbled upon a music room. Glancing up, she saw the fixture that once held a crystal chandelier. Near the chess table was another table and next to that was another group of armchairs in front of a fireplace. Staring at the empty spot above the fireplace that obviously once held a portrait, Hermione started to shake.

She could hear psychotic laughter echoing through the room and she buried her face in Draco's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him. Dipping his head, he whispered in her ear, "I had this room sealed. How did you find it?"

Hermione shook her head, unable to answer. Closing his eyes, Draco knew he needed to take her out of this room and quickly, but she didn't want to budge. When he tried to break their embrace, she wrapped her own arms around his body and held him as though her life depended upon it.

"Come on, love," he said softly. "Let's get out of here."

She nodded, but still did not let go or move. "I can still hear her laughter," she murmured against his chest. "I didn't know when I came in here, but the moment you said something, I could…" She looked up at him and he nearly died. Her eyes were swollen and red. He had never seen such a haunted look as her eyes filled with tears that did not shed.

"She's gone," he told her. "She can never hurt you again, my love. She's gone. Forever."

She lifted a hand and cupped his jaw. "You won't leave me, will you?"

His lips lifted in a soft smile that did not reach his eyes. "No. I'll never leave you," he vowed.

She nodded again and finally stepped away from him, but she refused to let go of his arm. She looked about the room. "This is a lovely room," she commented. "Do you play?" she added nodding towards the piano.

He looked at the piano and shook his head. He shrugged then. "Actually, I do play a little," he admitted. "My father's the pianist, though. Mother plays the harp."

"Do you have any musical talent? Aside from dancing that is?"

He lifted a single brow. "I sing a little," he confessed, "but only on special occasions. I wanted to learn the guitar, but Father refused to allow me to have lessons."

She glanced up at him with a frown. "Why?"

He shrugged. "He considers guitars to be Muggle instruments."

"He has a bookshelf of music composed by Muggle conductors," she argued. "Bit hypocritical, isn't he?"

Smiling, Draco looked down at her. "You tell me. He doesn't like the idea of you and I dating, he followed the Dark Lord and spouted about blood purity, and yet he was planning on marrying a Muggle shortly after Hogwarts."

"That reminds me!" she said, looking at him. She gave a final glance around the room. "Can we go somewhere a bit more… away from here to talk?"

He lifted his brow. It was nearly three in the morning and he wondered for a moment if he should point that out to her. Thinking better of it, he nodded. "We could go to the sitting room," he suggested. When she opened her mouth to give a slight protest, he clarified, "The main sitting room, love."

She nodded. "I just didn't want your mother to catch us in your rooms again. We've barely a week and a half until the wedding and…"

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry, love," he assured. "I know how important our upcoming nuptials are and I won't do anything to ruin them."

She nodded again and he led her out of the room and down the hall. She kept a careful eye on her surroundings, wanting to memorize where they were so she didn't accidentally end up back in the drawing room again. They walked in silence, though Hermione had a thousand questions for him. Had Andromeda spoken the truth to her? Why would she lie?

When they entered the room, he indicated an armchair that she should sit in while he went to the wet bar and poured himself a finger of brandy. He was dead tired, but if talking would appease his wife-to-be, then he would indulge her. "So, what's on your mind, love?" he asked as he turned to look at her and lean against the bar.

She stared at him for a moment as she sat in the overstuffed armchair. Did all the rooms have armchairs by the fireplaces? Even her rooms were designed in a similar fashion and she silently made a mental note to explore the Manor a bit more to see if her suspicions were true.

"Why do you want to marry me, Draco?" she asked directly.

He raised both of his eyebrows and drawled, "We've been over this many times…"

"Yes, but you've never fully answered the question," she argued. "It hasn't even been a month since we started dating. In fact, it's been barely two weeks. And now your mother and I are talking wedding dresses and Ginny is putting together a wedding boutique."

"If we don't marry before Father gets out…"

She waved a hand to cut him off and stood. "It seems like a rush, though, doesn't it? We hardly know one another and yet we're agreeing to spend the rest of our lives together."

He shrugged. "My parents didn't really know one another until they married," he pointed out. "And my grandparents had arranged marriages. At least I've been given the option to choose my bride."

"Yes, but why me?" she pressed as she walked towards him. "You could marry any Pureblood girl in Britain and quite possibly the world. Yet you chose me, a Muggle born whose only connection to wealth and privilege derive from the fact that I helped Harry Potter save the world."

He sighed. "Your parents weren't exactly paupers, love," he reminded her. "I also know you have very little interest in my money, though I'm sure you may find that as an added bonus."

"No, I don't," she denied. Placing a hand on his arm, she sighed. "I just want to know the truth, Draco."

His eyes narrowed as he glanced at her hand and then back at her. "Where is this coming from?" he asked. "You know how I feel about you, Hermione. Should I shout it to the world? Would that make you happy?"

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "I've no interest in making a spectacle about my private life," she said and she turned away from him. "I just… You know your parents did know one another," she said, changing the subject and looking at him. "They were dating in Hogwarts."

"On and off," he admitted. "But what do they have to do with anything?"

"You said they didn't know each other," she said, frowning. "How could they not know each other and still date?"

"He knew she was from a wealthy family and vice versa," he said, looking a bit perturbed. "When Father did decide to ask for Mother's hand, he approached her father with the proposition. With my Grandfather Malfoy, Father was able to convince my Grandfather Black that marriage to my mother would be a good thing. It would unite the two families. Yes, he had dated her in school, but that was mostly to let others know that she belonged to him and no one else. Call it… staking his territory, if you will." He pushed himself off the bar and took a sip of his drink. "They didn't really spend much time together, though."

"Yes, but your aunt said…"

"My aunt?" he interrupted, his eyes narrowed. Realization dawned on him and he set his drink down. "What did she tell you?" he growled.

Hermione knew she had said the wrong thing, but she didn't really care. "Only the truth," she told him. "Which is more than what you and your mum have told me."

He sneered, "And what 'truth' has she spat? Remember, Granger, my aunt has never been in my life. She was gone long before I was even thought of."

"You're right. She doesn't know you, but she does know your parents. And she warned me about them and how…"

"Did she?" he interrupted. "Let me guess, she vomited blood purity rubbish and probably even told you neither of my parents have changed. Anything she has said about me is pure speculation as she doesn't even bloody know me! Not once in my life has she ever even sent me an owl."

"Yes, but she was cast out by the family," she argued. "Your grandparents…"

"Did what they thought was best," he hissed. "They grew up in different times, love, and Andromeda ran away to marry a Muggle born. Did you know Grandfather Black had originally approached Grandfather Malfoy with the hope of uniting the family with her? He felt that she would be a suitable match for Father, but both Father and Grandfather Malfoy turned the offer down. That was when Father suggested Mother. Andromeda is two years Father's senior. Not that that really makes much difference, but he had already grown attached to my mother by then. After he turned her down, she grew angry and that's when she ran off with the Muggle born. It wasn't long after they discovered that she was pregnant and married. It wasn't right what my grandfather Black had done, but he did what he thought was best. Bloody hell, even today, marrying a Muggle born is taboo. If any of my grandparents were alive today…"

"So why bother?" she asked. "If their approval is so important, then why marry me? What have you to gain in all of this?"

"Aside from marrying the girl I love?" He rolled his eyes. "Hermione, you are intelligent, witty, brave…"

"Yes, I know my qualities," she hissed. "I also would have been Head Girl had I been able to attend school, and you yourself made it a point to tell me I was one of the most beautiful girls in school, though while we were in school, you consistently berated me and teased me for my looks."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. She could feel her anger mounting as she continued, "Oh, yes, I know you were only saying those things because I am a Mudblood and your father would never allow his only son to marry one, but the facts still remain. Tell me, Draco, did you plan on Ron being there that day? It's no longer a secret that you had sent those flowers to my office, but were you hoping he would see them?'

"Yes, I did."

She stared at him in shock. "And your kindness to Maisey? You allow her to follow you everywhere and even engage her in conversation," she stated accusingly. "What about that day when you had actually offered her food from your plate? At the time, I had thought you were just being sweet, but was that a calculated move on your part?"

Merlin, he was tired! While Hermione had been trying on dresses with Narcissa, he had taken his broom and travelled over the entire estate, checking on the production lines and trying to learn something from the account books. The very last thing he had expected was to get into a heated debate with his wife before he managed to get any sleep. He took a pull from his drink and turned to pour some more. Capping the decanter, he swirled the golden brown liquid as he walked to one of the armchairs and sat down upon it. When had he started thinking of Hermione as his wife? Was it at the Minister's office or before then? Not that it mattered much. By his estimation, they should be married by now. If not for Potter…

He took another sip of his drink and grimaced. "Let me ask you something, love," he said, glancing up at her. He waved his hand at the chair across from him. "Come, sit with me." As she sat, he licked his lips and met her honeyed eyes. "You and Weasel had just broken up. You know as well as I that that farce of a relationship wouldn't have lasted much longer. As studious as you are and as ill-tempered as he is, you might have ended up in a very long, unhappy marriage, if you ever married at all. Given what the two of you were arguing about, I'd wager it wouldn't have gotten that far." He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his glass within his hands. "I've never been much interested in house elf rights or even Muggle things, however, I have been interested in you from the moment I had met you." He stopped her before she could say anything.

"Think about it, Hermione," he told her. "When we started Hogwarts all those years ago, it was my belief, a belief I had been raised on, that Muggles were inferior, the least human of us all. Muggle borns were merely freaks of nature that threatened our very existence and way of life." He took another sip of his drink. "Yet, here was a girl, some knobby kneed, freckled faced, bushy haired girl straight from story books, who was not only Muggle born, but could wield magic better than most Purebloods. I wanted to dismiss it and for a few years, I did. Then, this duckling managed to blossom into a beautiful swan. I witnessed how her beauty began to match her brains and her only true desire in life was to save the world. And she did." He leaned back against the cushions of the chair.

"I'm not proud of my past, love," he continued. "I have done things and witnessed things that no child should ever be subjected to, as you have. I know more about the Dark Arts than probably anyone else in our year. Merlin, I was the poster child!" He sniffed, "No doubt, if it weren't for my abilities, I would probably never have become a Death Eater at such a young age."

He stared at her. "To answer your question, I wasn't much interested in giving Maisey food from my plate," he said, unblinking. "But I wanted you to see that I was willing to change my ways. You want house elf rights. It's your passion. I knew that if I wanted you, I would have to make your passions my passions as well. I would have to start caring. So, yes, I offered Maisey food from my plate. I ordered her to clean her cloth and take better care of herself. I also forbade her from punishing herself when she made a mistake. I will admit that I didn't do that for her benefit. She would have been content to continue life as it was before. I did it for you.

"I sent you those flowers because I wanted to free you from Weasel," he explained. "I saw how he was treating you. Not bothering to dance with his girl at the ball? Merlin, from what I learned, he didn't even bother to show up! Who does that? The rest of his family was there. I even spoke to his parents and offered them my condolences."

"Molly told me about that," she said.

He nodded. "Do you know where he was that night, love?" he asked, giving her a measured look. "Nott saw him in the Three Broomsticks guiding some slag up the stairs." He made a face and drained the rest of his drink. "You don't deserve that. After all you've been through, after all you've done. You deserve better, and I want to be the one to give you better."

Her eyes filled with tears and she glanced down at her hands. "No, I don't," she whispered.

"Stop it," he growled, setting his glass on the little table next to his chair and scooting towards her. He placed a hand on her knee and touched her chin with the fingers of his other hand, pushing her head up to look at him. "You did what you had to do to protect your family. Let me spell it out for you, love. The Dark Lord did have Snatchers looking for your parents, but he figured they couldn't find them because of your parents' blood. Muggles are harder to track than wizards. No one had known you had cast an Oblivion spell on them and that saved their lives."

"But I couldn't bring them back," she said softly as tears began to fall.

"Only because it takes something Darker to bring them back. You know Father is going to help you," he told her.

She wiped her tears with the back of one of her hands. "That's another thing your aunt warned me. Your father. She said he would try to trick me. He'd put poison in my drink and…"

"Hermione," he said slowly. "That woman is more than likely still bitter that he had chosen her sister over her. Father wouldn't poison you because he knows what that would do to me. Once you and I are married, we'll be bound together. Forever. And that is a bound that can _never_ be broken. Not by Potter or Weasel and, most especially, not by my parents."

The Muggle born closed her eyes. Was she being stupid? Andromeda told her to be cautious. "She was just concerned about me, Draco," the Gryffindor said. "In their past, your father had been known to drug girls and bring them to his dorm."

He raised a single brow. "Really?" he said, not really surprised. "We've all experimented with drugs, love. I'm sure even you and your friends…"

Her eyes shot open and she stared at him. "Why would you think that?! And the way she made it sound, these weren't recreational drugs," she said. "If what she said to me was true, then he raped these girls."

His frown deepened as he stood and walked up to the fire. Turning, he glared at the Muggle born. "Be careful with what you believe, Hermione. My father is a lot of things, but he would never rape someone," he sneered. "If he did have sex with any girl in school, it was mutual. I don't know what that woman told you, but before you run off spouting lies about my father or _our_ family, you'd be best to ask the source." He turned back to the fire, resting his arm on the mantle and his forehead on his arm.

She nodded, knowing he was right. While she wasn't sure whether Andromeda had spoken the truth or not, she knew the best way to find out would be to simply ask Lucius. But, "Why would she say that, though, if it wasn't true?"

"Honestly, Hermione!" he snarled. "Think about what you said for one bloody minute. Do you remember anything about our fourth year? Or the years after? There's still rumours you and Krum are dating, and I read an article just last month stating that you were having his love child."

She made a sour face. "Viktor and I were friends. Still are come to think of it."

"And do you have a love child together?" he asked.

Her face twisted in disgust and she shook her head vigorously. "Of course not."

He waved a dismissive hand. "There you go," he said as though that proved his point. "I won't deny that Father may have been promiscuous in his youth. Merlin knows I was. However, promiscuity does not equate rape, or using drugs for rape." He sighed and glanced tiredly at his bride. "I don't know what Muggles did at the time, but Father and Mother both went to Hogwarts during the late 60s, early 70s. Drugs were a big thing at the time and Father in particular did experiment with them. I think it was mostly to rebel against my grandfather."

She nodded. "Many Muggles did as well," she admitted. "I'm not sure if my parents did, however. They never said anything about it."

He shrugged as he plopped back down in his chair. "You really shouldn't believe everything you hear," he repeated, letting his head fall back against the chair. "And you should know that. People have a way of spinning lies to make them sound like the truth, especially when they want to appeal to another."

"Something you do rather well, I might add," she said testily.

He glared at her. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" she asked. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

He sat up straight so he could look at her better. "I know where you're going with this," he explained. "I wasn't the one who cheated on you, Hermione. Nor would I. Yes, I'll admit that my methods of courtship may have been a bit… unorthodox for a Gryffindor, but for a Slytherin and a Malfoy? It's how we do things. If we see something we want, we do whatever we can to get it. I know money will never appeal to you, so chucking Galleons at you, buying you expensive gifts, and taking you to first class places won't do much." He sighed. Lifting a hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm trying, love."

She knew he was. Thus far, he had done little but shown her respect and courtesy. "I know," she said. "And I really do appreciate it."

"Then why are we having this conversation?" he asked as he opened his eyes and glanced at her.

Hermione shook her head. "Most of what your aunt said had to do with your parents. She warned me of your father and even told me not to expect much from your mother, especially once we marry. She said that they will never change their views, especially where it concerns Muggles and Muggle borns."

His eyebrows twitched, but he nodded. "More than likely, she's right," he admitted. "But Mother already considers you different from other Muggle borns. I have no doubt that Father will come to view you that way as well."

"But I'm not different…"

"In some ways, you are," he said. "In a lot of ways, you're different from any other witch or wizard in all of Great Britain. They don't call you 'the brightest witch of your age' for no reason, love. That has little to do with blood, of course, and more to do with your academics, and my mother is starting to see that. What's more, she's seeing the real you. The person beyond the blood status and intellect."

"She's still prejudice against Muggles and Muggle borns," Hermione stated.

Draco sighed. "More than likely she always will be," he admitted. "Muggles weren't exactly accepting of our kind, even when they did know of us. We learned this in History of Magic."

"That doesn't excuse what your father has done," she said.

"You're right. It doesn't," he agreed. "It explains some of it, though. Father is a bit aggressive in his approach towards Muggles, yes, but… and I'll deny this if you ever repeat it… he's mostly scared of them." Both of her eyebrows shot up and he continued, "Muggles have technologies many wizards could never even begin to imagine. I'll admit that much of the wizarding dress style, for example, is frozen in Medieval or Victorian periods. A lot of the technologies Muggles have, we never will, unless someone figures out how to get magic and electricity to work together, but honestly, we don't need it. Why use a toaster when you can simply wave your wand and toast the bread yourself?"

Hermione didn't really have an answer for that, so she didn't comment. Instead, she said, "I find it hard to believe that your father is scared of Muggles."

"He'll never admit it," Draco drawled as he leaned back in his chair again. "However, when you think about guns and cannons, it's not hard to guess. Being burned at the stake is something any witch or wizard can escape, but guillotines? Lynching? I actually heard of one where the Muggles will dip you in hot tar and feathers. And there's countless other forms of torture that could make even the bravest of men tremble at just the thought." He shook his head. "No magic can stop an axe from taking off your head. Didn't the Gryffindors even have a House ghost who had been beheaded?"

"Nearly beheaded," the Muggle born corrected.

He nodded. "Can you still not see why father would fear them? And fear will always drive a person to do things they never would even begin to imagine doing. Especially when that person has a wife and child to consider," he told her. Draco sighed. "Would you like to know a secret? The Malfoy family hasn't always been against Muggles. In fact, my ancestors used to attend parties with the wealthiest of Muggles and even invite them here to our own parties."

She looked at him in surprise and he gave her a small smile. "From what I've heard, we were really close, and when the Ministry instituted the Statute of Secrecy, the Malfoys were some of the biggest protestors against it. However, the Ministry had some really good reasons for it and it wasn't long before our family learned those reasons and agreed with them. See, Muggles were learning that there were other ways besides burnings to kill witches and wizards. And they really started hunting us down. Mother said it was because they were jealous, but Father actually told me it was more because of this new Muggle religion that had risen. Well, it wasn't really 'new' so much as more and more Muggles started practicing it. However, this religion started teaching that magic was a sin and the practice of it was a one-way ticket to Hell."

"Where did you learn that?" Hermione asked curiously. She didn't really know much about religion, as neither of her parents had ever been particularly religious, but it still intrigued her.

Draco thought over it a moment. Snapping his fingers, he stood up. "Come with me," he said as he offered her his hand.

Taking his hand, she allowed him to lead her out of the sitting room and down the hall. She took note of her surroundings, not wanting to end up back in the drawing room again. Their trek was short-lived, however, as he brought her into the library. Letting go of her hand, he began perusing the shelves.

"We don't have much in the way of Muggle literature," he admitted as he continued to look. "My great-great grandfather tossed much of it, but there were a few things that even my father won't get rid of. Most of them, of course, are great works such as Shakespeare and Socrates. Many of the old Muggle Philosophers and poets were incredible and quite brilliant. However…"

Hermione watched and listened to him. Glancing about the room, she couldn't help but breathe in the smell. She loved dusty old books and decided then that she would revisit this room at a later date. The room was enormous and she wondered, albeit briefly, how they managed to put such a large room inside the Manor. She answered her own question of course: Magic. Realizing she had lost Draco, she began searching for him.

He emerged from behind several shelves with a thick book in his hands and a smirk on his face. "Found it," he said. "Father had all these books categorized, but during the Dark Lord's stay, they sort of became mixed up. As much as you like books, I'm sure Father would appreciate the help in reorganizing these when he returns."

Her smile brightened as he led her to a table. While she was uncertain about being alone with Lucius in any room, even the Malfoy library, she could hardly turn down the idea of organizing books. She joined Draco at the table, watching as he opened the book and began flipping through it. "What is that?" she asked.

Holding his place with one hand, he turned the book over to show her the cover. "The Bible," he told her. "I'm sure you've seen this before?"

She nodded. "Oh yes. My parents kept one on the bookshelf in our sitting room," she admitted. "I did enjoy the story of Moses when he parted the Red Sea."

Grey eyes met honey and he smiled. "This book is chock full of magic, but..." He opened the book back up and pointed to a line within the book of Exodus. The line was highlighted in bright green. "'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,'" he quoted aloud.

They were both silent for a long time. Draco watched as the Muggle born stared at the page. He could see the emotions playing across her face as the words began to sink into her mind. Finally, his voice soft and quiet he rasped, "Countless witches and wizards alike were put to death because of those words. And Muggles didn't care if they had an actual witch or wizard. The threat was still blatantly clear."

Hermione had read this book thousands of times in her youth. How had she missed that line? How was it that her parents had not pointed it out to her? She could feel a cold sweat start to crawl up her spine and a fear she had never known began to swirl in her brain. She was a Gryffindor and she was proud of her own heritage. Biting her bottom lip, she began to understand why so many Purebloods despised Muggles.

"Your father believes Muggle borns would follow this?"

"My father knows that they have," he told her. "He actually met a Muggle born once outside of Hogwarts. He hadn't even said anything to the Muggle born and the bloke was brandishing a crucifix at Father and telling him that he would burn in Hell."

Under any normal circumstance, Hermione would have found this highly amusing, however, it made her stop. "Was he doing anything? I mean, if he had just become a Death Eater…"

"Father had barely started school," he told her. "His parents had taken him into London to eat at some high class Muggle establishment. The Muggle born was supposed to be their waiter. My grandfather actually had to speak to the manager because the bloke refused to serve them. He kept going around the restaurant spouting about how my grandparents were going to curse everyone there if they even looked at my grandparents."

"Well, that's overdoing it a bit," she commented as she frowned.

He nodded. "Those were my thoughts, too, when Father told me the story. Not a very good first impression, either," he said pointedly. "It had been the first time Father had ever even seen a Muggle born."

"How did he know the guy was Muggle born?"

Draco shrugged. "Honestly, he could have easily have been a Muggle or a Squib. It doesn't really matter, though, does it?" he said as he frowned. "It set a precedent for Father that's stuck with him throughout his life. Sure he knows that if a Muggle born actually goes to Hogwarts and learns about the magic, they are less likely to act that way, but there's still that chance."

They heard the chiming of a clock and looked up. Draco's focus narrowed on a large grandfather clock in the corner of the library. How was it five o'clock so soon? He ran a hand through his hair before he rubbed his face and massaged his temples. He looked blearily at Hermione.

"Alright, love. We can do one of two things," he told her. "We could both go into the sitting room and continue our discussion or I can escort you to your rooms so you can go back to sleep. Choose carefully, because I'm exhausted."

She smiled and was about to suggest the latter. Thinking back to the dream she had, she decided against it, however. "We could go to the sitting room," she suggested, "but we don't have to talk. I could take one of these books with me to read while you nap on the couch."

His eyes softened as he lifted his hand to cup her jaw. "You don't want to be without me, do you?"

She shook her head and Draco found he just didn't have the energy to disagree with her.

A few hours later, Narcissa was surprised to find the young couple laying together on the couch, with Draco's arms wrapped protectively around Hermione. From the state of their clothing, she could see they hadn't done anything the night before aside from sleep. The older witch smiled. She didn't know much about Muggles, but the more she learned of Hermione, the more the child became dear to her. Seeing the soft smile on her son's face was all the Pureblood witch needed to allow the Muggle born into her own heart.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Poor Draco! He just wants to sleep! *Giggles* Review time!

**Chester99:** Shhhhh! Haven't gotten to that part yet! Ron's not letting her go so easily and he's going to want to smudge Draco's name, but... shhh! There's plans and I can't say anything yet.

**Occupational Haz:** Hermione isn't as naive as she seems. I know right now, I'm kinda not getting much into her psyche and she is being a bit rushed, but she's getting there. Thing is, much like Draco wanting to marry her for his reasons, she has her reasons to want to be married to him. And they're not tied to money and it's not just about love. Even after this chapter, her eyes are a lot more opened than they had been before.

**LanaLee1:** What it is with all of you wanting to try and ruin my plans! Lol! J/k, but there are some things coming up that I think you'll like. But shhhhhh! As for Hermione's plan to wait, yeah. I'd always imagined her being so careful, wanting to give herself to her husband.

I don't know if Goyle will ever forgive either of them. I know the story is titled "Forgiven", but it is a lot about forgiving oneself and Goyle faults himself as much as he does the couple. If not more because he wasn't able to save Crabbe. In my headcanon, those two were best friends much like Harry and Ron or Draco and Theo. And I can't even imagine how much Harry would have blamed himself if Ron had died during the war. As for Pansy, I have plans for her.

**NicebutNaughty Angel:** I'll take care of that. Sometimes I will make small mistakes and I really appreciate it when people catch me. Especially when they're nice about it, like you and my buddy Smile.

**Alkaid:** I hope this chapter satisfied some of your thoughts. And don't worry, there will be more later on. Draco's clever, but so is Hermione.

**SmileSimply:** Speaking of the buddy I mentioned to Angel... I was wondering where your reviews went. Glad to see you're still part of the party. I will make those corrections you mention.

For the most part, Ron kept his discrepancies pretty covered and hidden. If people did see it, they didn't say anything. The only reason Theo told Draco about them was because he wanted to help his friend. If Theo had even an inkling that Draco was no longer interested in Hermione, he would have used the information for himself. I don't know if you caught this, but in the past, in Draco's early years, our Slytherin Prince would have been quick to loudly proclaim Ron's infidelity to the world. But, he's older now, more experienced. He's learned to take his knowledge and use it at the right times. And don't worry. The entire Wizarding World is getting ready to find out about our couple. It's going to be spectacular.

Oooohhh... there is so much I want to say about Lucius's knowledge and it's so hard keeping my fingers under control. Lol! And don't worry. Draco and Hermione will be having the "future talk" soon. No way is Hermione going to get married without assurance that she can still work on her career, even though being married to a multi-billionaire kinda negates the necessity of it, doesn't it?

And I agree with you about Goyle. I wanted to show that not everyone in the world adores the brains of the Golden Trio. While I agree with Lana that some of Goyle's hatred towards Hermione, especially where he blames her for Crabbe's death, is a bit unfounded, we all have to remember that he's never liked her. In school, he and Crabbe took pleasure in tormenting the Golden Trio. Draco did, too, honestly, if you take Hermione out of the equation for that. These things did not change just because of the war. If anything, for Goyle, they worsened, leaving him a bitter, bitter man. Obviously, as you can see, Andromeda does have reasons to be jealous, or at least, that's how Draco's carving her to be. It'll be interesting to see how much of Draco's words stick with Hermione. As previously stated, Hermione's eyes are open now.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione grunted as she grabbed onto the bedpost. "Is this…" she said through gritted teeth, "really necessary?"

Narcissa sat pristinely on the edge of the bed as she watched the small house elf pull at the strings of Hermione's new corset. "In years to come, you'll be grateful, darling," she told the girl. "Men like a nice, slim waist. Right now, you're skinny, but after you carry a child or two, that will change."

The Muggle born glared at the woman. "I didn't think Draco was that shallow," she snarled.

The older witch huffed, "Of course he's not. Draco will love you no matter what, however, that shouldn't be a reason to let yourself go."

The elf finally tied the corset up and released Hermione. Standing straight, the young witch looked in the floor length mirror. Her eyes widened at the image she saw. She lifted her hands and ran them over her sides, marvelling at the effect the corset made on her shape. She had never been a tiny breasted girl, but now her breasts looked nearly three times their size. And her waist looked so tiny! If she wore a shirt over the corset, people would probably think she lost weight.

Turning slightly, she was amazed by how much larger her butt looked as well. Of course, she knew the corset didn't really do anything to her rear, but the lack of waist did make her back end more noticeable. Turning more, she saw Narcissa sitting on her bed, beaming. "You look lovely, darling," she gushed. "Draco will be pleased."

Hermione bit her lip and turned back to the mirror. "You said all men like a slim waist, but do you think Lucius will like the route that you've taken?" she asked, looking at the woman through the mirror.

The smile on Narcissa's face faltered. "No doubt Draco has spoken to you," she said, giving Hermione a measured look. "As you've been able to rightly assume with my son, my husband cared little for the weight I had put on during my pregnancy. Even after, he did not make much fuss about it. However, he has spoken in his recent letters to me of the weight I have lost since he's been incarcerated."

The Muggle born nodded and walked to the older witch. "I'm sorry, Mother," she said softly as she sat next to the Pureblood. "I didn't mean to assume…"

"Of course not, darling," Narcissa said kindly as she patted the younger witch on the hand. There was a sadness in her eyes that Hermione had never seen from the Pureblood before. "It is a tough time for all of us, isn't it? First with the war and now with all of this…" She sighed and looked away. Hermione respectfully glanced down as the witch continued, "Lucius with his ideas. If he had just listened to me all those years ago. He and Bellatrix."

The Muggle born looked up at the mention of the other witch's name. Narcissa shook her head and looked at Hermione. "Bella was always the most aggressive of the three of us. Thought she could change the world by eradicating it of Muggles and Muggle borns. I had tried to explain that there were other ways to get what she wanted, but once she met the Dark Lord, there was little I could do. Lucius was the same, though I think he began to see what I was seeing, particularly when I became pregnant with Draco." She sighed. "He just… He didn't want that life anymore. We didn't want it. Every time he turned around there was another mission, another job that the Dark Lord wanted done. However, once you become a Death Eater, it becomes impossible to break away. There was little Lucius could do, so when young Mr. Potter was born and the Dark Lord disappeared, we felt relieved. Personally, I was certain we were finished with him for good."

"But he returned," Hermione pointed out knowingly.

The Pureblood nodded. "Oh, darling, you can't even begin to imagine the horror I felt. Draco was only fourteen, but I knew the Dark Lord would want to recruit him the moment he came of age. After all, Draco was so smart and so skilled. Thankfully, Lucius and I were able to stress to the Dark Lord of how important it was for Draco to finish his education before serving. It was… the best we could think of with the situation. So long as Lucius was doing his job, the Dark Lord was appeased." As though she realized what she was saying, Narcissa placed a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my darling, forgive me," she said as she clasped Hermione's hand. She sighed. "I often forget our respective positions in the war. I do hope you understand, darling, that I never wanted any of it. When I first married Lucius, it was because I loved him. Nothing more, nothing less. I hadn't even considered the war or what being the wife of a Death Eater would mean. My eldest sister was a Death Eater, after all, and the only other sister I had abandoned our family."

"Andromeda was thrown out," Hermione said, though there was no animosity in her voice.

Narcissa hissed. "Andromeda ran off with a nasty little Mudblood and got herself pregnant before my father could find her. By the time he did catch them, it was too late and there was little my father could do aside from insuring they married," she spat as she sat up straight. "My father gave my sister a small home outside of Kingston and a trunk full of Galleons. I will admit it was far less than I received when I married Lucius, but given what she did, he was extremely lenient."

"Because she married a Mudblood," the Muggle born stated. "Had she married a Pureblood…?"

Narcissa shook her head. "You misunderstand me, darling," she explained. "Even if she had married a Pureblood, she didn't approach my father. He did not approach my father. I know things in the Muggle world are different, but here, especially among the old families, there are traditions that must be observed. Traditions that my parents did observe, of which Andromeda was well aware."

"So how is Draco and myself getting married any different?" the Gryffindor asked. "I'm not a Pureblood, by any means."

The Pureblood nodded. "You are a first generation witch, sure, but both you and Draco have Lucius's blessing as well as mine. If your parents were here, I've no doubt you'd have their blessing as well."

Hermione noticed the change in how Narcissa addressed her. First generation witch? While the thought held some appeal, Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel outrage at the term. Narcissa had been so quick to term Ted Tonks a Mudblood, and yet turned the moment she was speaking to Hermione. The Muggle born thought about pointing the words out to the Pureblood, maybe spitting them, but she thought twice. This would require more thinking.

Truth was, Andromeda did live outside on Kingston. She did have a beautiful home that, while certainly not as large as any manor, could hardly be termed "small". Thus far, Narcissa's story held water, but the Gryffindor would need to investigate further. Her eyes narrowed. This would require delicate work.

Hermione hid her distaste well, nodding in polite agreement with the older witch's words. "I have to meet with Ginny," she told Narcissa. "Did you want me to continue wearing this, or should I change?"

The Pureblood waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, darling, I would like you to wear it a bit longer, get used to the feel of it, but if you're that uncomfortable…"

Hermione shook her head. "It's fine. I just need a skirt or perhaps a pair of trousers to go with it," she said.

Narcissa snapped her fingers and the house elf reappeared. "Laney, please retrieve a nice skirt to go with Hermione's corset for me?" she requested.

The Muggle born opened her mouth to protest but before she could form the words, the elf had left and returned with a proper skirt. Hermione blinked as the elf handed her the skirt. "T-thank you," she stammered, but the elf had already disappeared.

(II)(II)

Picking up her skirt, Hermione shook the soot off of it. "I'm sorry I took so long, Gin," she said without looking up. "Narcissa wanted me to try on this new outfit that had just…" She paused as she glanced up and saw Ginny and Harry both staring at her in mixed expressions of shock. Confused, the Muggle born frowned and turned her attention back to the corset. "Do I have something on me?"

"Yes," Ginny answered. "Narcissa's old clothes. Hermione, what in bloody hell are you wearing?"

"You look like you just stepped out of a Muggle costume shop," Harry commented. "Don't get me wrong, you look beautiful, Hermione, but… Are you trying to be like Narcissa?"

The Muggle born rolled her eyes. Lifting her skirt up a bit, she stepped further into the kitchen. "Of course not," she replied. "I've been trying on dresses for the dinners Narcissa has been planning. I do have a wedding in a few days, remember?"

"Well, yeah, but what other dinners is she planning?" Harry asked as he leaned back in his seat.

Hermione sat at the table with her two friends and sighed. It had been a while since she had been at Grimmauld Place. Silently, she had hoped they would have moved their Floo connection to either the sitting or drawing rooms like most wizarding homes. Realizing the path her thoughts were going, the Muggle born sat up straight and slightly shook her head. Maybe she had been around the Malfoys for too long if she was thinking that way. Harry was allowed to have his Floo anywhere he wanted to in his own home.

"Aside from the wedding? There's Lucius's return home, then she wants to do something for my birthday…"

"Wait," Ginny interrupted. "You're going to sit down for a dinner to celebrate Lucius Malfoy getting out of Azkaban?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well…"

"Hermione, you do remember that man nearly killed me, right?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"He did not, not really. It was the book more than anything."

"Are you kidding me?!" the red head screeched, standing up from the table. "Hermione! That man put that bloody diary in my cauldron and because of that, I almost died! YOU almost died! Do you not remember any of that?! Never mind the fact that he and his little Death Eater buddies tried to kill us in the Ministry, or have you forgotten Sirius? Or what about that time in the Manor when he did NOT stand up for you or Harry or Ron?! Hell, he even encouraged Draco to identify you!"

"He was just trying to protect his family," Hermione snapped.

"Bloody hell!" Ginny shouted, falling into her chair. She glanced at Harry. "Do you hear this shite? She's actually defending the bastard! She's bloody defending him!"

Hermione shook her head in denial. "I'm not!" she growled. "I know what he did wrong, believe me Ginny, I do. But he's changed. He…"

"Men like Lucius Malfoy don't change, Hermione," Harry said calmly. Both witches stared at him and he sighed. "He's helping the Minister right now, sure, but he's only doing that because he knows he can go home. Don't expect him to be so kind once he's out, though. He's still the same prejudiced bigot he's always been." He glanced up at the bushy haired witch. "I heard you've spoken to Andromeda? Are you going to take her warnings to heart?"

The Muggle born lifted an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you were watching me, Harry," she said, eying him.

"I wasn't aware I had to," he quipped.

"You don't," Hermione said shortly. "I don't have to explain myself to the two of you, either. There is no law that states that Narcissa cannot host parties in her own home."

Harry nodded. "You're right, however…"

"Who do you think is going to want to go to a party at that house, Hermione? We agreed to go to the wedding, mostly to make sure they don't poison you, but you're insane if you think we'd attend some Death Eater party," Ginny spat, folding her arms over her chest.

Hermione's frown deepened and she sat up straighter. "One: It isn't a 'Death Eater party'. It's a dinner to welcome Lucius home. Two: None of the Malfoys, Lucius included, have any interest in poisoning me so if that's your only reason for coming to my wedding, you don't have to come. Three: No one invited you to the welcome home dinner. Harry asked about the dinners Narcissa was planning and I answered," she replied coolly.

Ginny's face contorted and turned nearly as red as her hair. "You've been around those Malfoys for too long, Hermione! You're starting to act like one," she yelled.

Hermione stood and very calmly stated, "Good. Given that I will be a Malfoy in a few short days, it would make sense, wouldn't it?"

Harry had stood as well and walked around the table. He grabbed Hermione's arm before she could turn and leave. "Hermione, please," he begged her. "Don't go. Ginny just learned that Lucius will be out of Azkaban soon and she's upset. Shacklebolt and I have been discussing a sort of 'house arrest' for Lucius, just to keep the streets safe. Maybe keep an eye on his wand."

"He shouldn't be allowed a wand," the ginger piped.

The Muggle born's eyes widened at this information. "So, you give him his freedom only to snatch it away from him again?" she asked in disbelief. She yanked her arm away from Harry. "You can't do that to him!" she hissed. "Narcissa and Draco have been waiting for years to have him back and…"

"They'll have him back, Hermione," Harry reassured. "And eventually, he'll be able to walk the streets freely again, but he was a Death Eater."

"He defected!" The bushy haired woman snarled.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Only because he had no wand."

"Ginny!" Harry snapped. "You're not helping."

The Pureblood's eyes narrowed and she stood. "Fine. I have other, more important things to do," she said as she stormed out of the kitchen.

Harry sighed. "You'll have to forgive her," he said as he turned his attention back to Hermione, but she had already walked up to the fireplace and was taking powder out of the bowl. "Oi!" he shouted, crossing the room in a couple short strides. "Hermione, you came here to talk…"

"Yes, and I see now that was a mistake," she said, glaring at him. The black haired man opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him. "I've had enough of this, Harry. I've been understanding, I have. I know learning about my impending marriage to Draco has been a bit shocking, but honestly. Enough time has passed."

"Actually, it hasn't," he argued. "Hermione, all of this is happening so quickly. One moment you're breaking up with Ron, the next you're engaged to Draco Malfoy. It's been a bit crazy since. And now you're getting married next week. No one has had any time to breathe, much less think."

"I didn't break up with Ron," she hissed. "He broke up with me and over a stupid bouquet of flowers! Then I find out he'd been cheating on me the whole time! But does anyone say anything?! No! It was Draco who defended me when Ron tried to berate me. Even Lucius was surprised that no one had said anything."

"Hermione, we did," he told her. "Once we were certain that you were ok, Ginny and I left for the Burrow and told Ron exactly what we thought. Even Molly and Arthur joined us. I hadn't seen either of them so angry."

The Muggle born closed her eyes. "That's great, Harry, but did either of you bother to check on me after? Even Luna asked me how I was when she visited the Manor."

"What are you doing, Hermione?" he asked tiredly. "I was a bit worried when you started dating Malfoy. You know as well as anyone else that he and I never got along. But you looked so happy, so I didn't argue the choice that much. After all, it's like you said, it's your life. You can date whomever you want and there's little I can do. You can marry whomever, as well. I was shocked when I saw that ring, but again, I've done my best to accept it, because it is your choice. But Hermione, look at you. You look like a younger, darker version of Narcissa Malfoy. You know all the things Lucius has done, regardless of whether he defected or not, yet you're so ready to see him out of prison and back in that house. Do you think things will get better once he's home?" He shook his head. "He's a Death Eater, Hermione. He didn't join because he thought one day his son could marry a Muggle born and life would be great. He hates Muggles. No matter what Narcissa told you about him wanting to marry one in the past, he still hates them."

"How did you know about that?" she asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" He pointed at the air behind him. "That room you go into when you meet with him is actually a window room. The Aurors can see and hear everything that is said and done in that room."

"So, you were spying."

"No!" he barked. "You think we have that there to spy? Jesus, Hermione! How much have they brainwashed you? We have that there so you have back up in case you need it. All prisoners meet their loved ones in that room, or in rooms like it. It's a security measure we developed so people like Narcissa and Draco can see their family members and the Aurors can keep them safe."

"What is it that they think these prisoners are going to do to their own family?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "You're missing the point. The other day, Seamus told me you had visited Lucius alone. I haven't the foggiest how you managed to get the clearance, but if he had tried something…"

"But he didn't," she pointed out. "And he wouldn't. He knows Draco and I will be married soon, so he's started to see me as part of the family. Narcissa has already started referring to me as her daughter and I've taken to calling her Mother."

The Boy-Who-Lived blinked as realization came to him. "That's what this is about," he breathed. "Hermione, you're about to marry into one of the biggest, oldest Pureblooded families in all of Great Britain. Draco's feelings for you may be honest and true, but you can't keep thinking that Narcissa feels the same. You need to tread carefully, especially once Lucius gets out."

"Harry…"

"Look, Hermione. I'm done trying to convince you not to go through with it," he told her as he pulled her into a hug. "You're my best friend. My sister. And I love you so much." Pulling away from her slightly, he met her eyes and continued, "All I'm asking is that you exercise caution, especially with Lucius. If Narcissa has accepted you, then great! But Lucius cannot be trusted. I'm not really one to talk about sex with you, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but you and Draco need to consummate as soon as possible. If you really want to be married to him, don't hesitate. The sooner you consummate, the better it will be, because there won't be anything Lucius can do by then."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I… I don't know what to say," she said.

He shrugged. "I still can't believe I said it, but it needed to be said. I get that you love Draco and I know you're trying to get Narcissa to accept you. I've no doubt the two of you are well on the way to that acceptance, but… She's not your mother and Lucius is not your father." He sighed and took a step back. "I just don't want to see you hurt. You deserve to be happy, Hermione, and I hope Draco can provide that for you."

(III)(III)

Picking up the vase full of white roses, Hermione threw it against the wall, causing the fragile crystal to shatter. Grabbing her wand, she waved it over the mess and repaired the vase. Snatching it from the floor, the Muggle born stood up and threw it again.

"Hermione!" Draco called to her in alarm as he crossed the sitting room. "What in bloody hell are you doing?"

She repaired the vase again and levitated it back to the end table. "Releasing some frustration," she told him as she began picking up the discarded flowers. Most of them had bent or broken stems and she sighed. She tossed them rather forcefully onto the table.

Draco lifted the vase from the table and looked it over. "Thank Merlin this isn't an expensive vase," he commented.

She stared at him. "Your mum told me the other day that it had cost around a thousand Galleons!" she said as she watched him place it back on the table.

The Slytherin shrugged. "Might as well be a thousand Knuts, love," he muttered to her honestly as he pulled her into an embrace. "Now, what has my beautiful, intelligent bride so rattled?"

She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Breathing him in, she whispered, "I went to Grimmauld Place today. Ginny was angry because I had mentioned to Harry about the dinner party your mum wishes to have for your father when he comes home."

He frowned and looked down at her. "You shouldn't have gone without me, love," he said, kissing her forehead. "I can't protect you if I'm not there. And why did you bring up my father's dinner party anyway?"

She pushed away from him. "I don't need you to be with me when I visit my friends," she growled. "Harry asked me about my dress. I told him it was for a dinner party. He questioned and I answered. I wasn't expecting the reaction I had received. Not from Ginny."

He scowled. "What did she say?" he asked.

Hermione waved a dismissive hand in the air. "She just kept bringing up all the horrible things your father's done, that wretched diary and the battle in the Ministry. She still has a lot of anger there, mostly because they affected her directly," she said. Sighing, she walked to one of the chairs and sat down upon it. "I really shouldn't blame her," she admitted. "I mean, she was right. Ginny almost died in the Chamber of Secrets and if she had, your father would have been, however indirectly, responsible."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Is that why Potter and Weasel won awards for special services to the school that year?" he questioned. At Hermione's nod, he turned away, thinking. He did not doubt her word, for even when they were in school, she wasn't really known to lie about such things. "I remember Father saying something was going to happen in the school. He didn't tell me much, however. I was still young and wasn't allowed in his study when he had his friends over. Usually Theo would be there as well and we would find things to occupy ourselves or Mother would bring Theo and me to the Zabini residence and the three of us would practice Quidditch. That was when we weren't studying, though. Their parents were as strict as my own when it came to schoolwork."

The Muggle born nodded and glanced down at her hands. She was still wearing the corset and skirt combo that Narcissa had her try on earlier that day. It really was a beautiful corset, too. There were green and red threads in an old Victorian pattern. She supposed Harry had been right in that she looked a lot like Narcissa, but the girl would be lying if she claimed to not like the look. She had thought about telling Draco of the warning Harry had given her regarding Lucius, but shook her head. There was no point in alarming her soon-to-be husband. Not to mention, she didn't really want to stir up more problems.

"You said there was a house in France that would make a good honeymoon getaway," she commented. Looking up at him, she asked, "Is there a home here in England aside from the Manor? Perhaps something a bit smaller where you and I could spend the first few years of our marriage? Or maybe we could convince your parents to live there?" she suggested. She saw the look of indignation in his eyes and quickly added, "Not that I want to be away from them. I'm just thinking it would be easier for us to have alone time. Once we have children, I really would like to raise them together, rather than have two sets of parents trying to raise them. I'm not questioning your parents' methods, but these will be our children, not theirs."

He nodded slowly. "I agree with you," he said as he moved towards the chair opposite hers. "I am learning a bit more about the family business, our finances, and everything we contribute to society. Father's not going to want to move out of the Manor while he's trying to teach me these things. However, once I've learned, I see no reason for him and my mother to stay here."

She sighed and looked away. What he said made sense and she couldn't find a reasonable argument otherwise. All these people kept warning her about Lucius. Truth be told, she knew he was a dangerous man and not really someone she wished to share a home with. Hermione pinched her lips together. "You're a fast learner, though. Shouldn't take you long at all," she surmised.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why do you suddenly not want to live with my parents? Has Mother done or said something to distress you?"

She gave a soft laugh and looked up at him. "Your mother has been wonderful," she told him. "It's your father I worry about."

"Hermione, love, that Chamber of Secrets incident happened years ago and, honestly, we don't even have anything remotely like that here in the Manor…"

"I understand that," she argued, "but who says you need a gigantic snake to wreak havoc? Besides, that's not what I'm talking about anyway. Your father hates me."

"Only because he doesn't know you," he pointed out. Draco reached out and took her hands into his. "You have to remember, love; Father was a Death Eater for years. The only experiences he's ever had with Muggles or Muggle borns has been negative." He looked up into her eyes. "Just give him a chance, love. I promise everything will be alright. You'll see."

She met his warm, grey eyes and lifted a hand to touch his cheek. Hermione knew the wizard was right, but she couldn't shake this feeling that she was walking straight into a trap. "I love you, Draco," she whispered.

And he smiled. "I love you, too, Hermione. Look, I don't know what your friends keep telling you that causes you to have so much doubt," he said.

"It's not just what they say," she confessed. "It's what I know, too. I fought in that war as well. It's hard to forget a person when they're chasing you through the Ministry, shooting curses at you. My saving grace was when the Order showed up. If it hadn't been for them, we would have died."

He frowned. "Wasn't my aunt Bellatrix in that battle as well?"

Hermione nodded. "She was, but it was your father who led," she told him.

"The only person my aunt ever listened to was the Dark Lord," he explained.

Her eyebrow furrowed and she tilted her head to the side. "Are you excusing his behaviour?" she questioned.

"Of course not," he scoffed. "I was merely curious."

Sighing, Hermione reclined back in her chair. Closing her eyes, she thought about the things Harry had told her as well as the conversation she had had with Andromeda the day before. While she didn't want to believe ill of Narcissa, she found that she was finding it harder to feel content around Lucius. When he did come home, she knew she would have to watch her back, and Draco didn't seem too inclined to live elsewhere or have his parents live elsewhere.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he told her, jarring her out of her thoughts.

Opening her eyes, the Muggle born smiled. "Thank you. I've been trying on a few different outfits. Your mum has been having them shipped from Italy and France, as well as Diagon Alley. It's quite exhilarating and exhausting," she told him.

His eyes danced with amusement and he smirked. "I'm glad the two of you have been getting along," he admitted. "I won't lie. Years ago, when I first fell for you, I didn't know how I was going to convince her to give you a chance. However, I knew all she needed was a push."

"She called me a 'first generation witch'," the Muggle born said, grimacing. "I wasn't sure what to make of that."

Draco raised an eyebrow. He had heard his mother use the term as well and had even asked her about it. "She didn't mean it as an insult," he told the Gryffindor. "She's trying, love. Mother was raised with so much prejudice against Muggles and Muggle borns. So was Father. It's all either of them had ever known."

"So have you," she pointed out, "but you seem have gotten over it."

He shrugged. "I've also had nine years to come to terms with my feelings," he replied. He knew the moment the words left his mouth, she would take them the wrong way, so he quickly cut her off, "One thing you have to understand, love. I've been taught my entire life that Muggle borns are freaks of nature whose goals include destroying the Wizarding world and all we have worked so hard to build. Having this as my truth, it actually scared me when I met you. I know the qualities that make a good Malfoy wife. It's something else I had been taught my whole life. And you were meeting each and every criteria. When you walked down that aisle on Viktor Krum's arm looking the way you did, I knew there was no turning back for me, but I also knew there was no way you and I could ever be together. "

"But obviously you were wrong," she said, "because here we are."

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smirked. "Here we are," he agreed. He wanted her so badly and all he could think was how quickly he knew this week would go. In a very short span of time, he would have her in his bed. "But at that time, I didn't think it was possible. You know what our history was up until that point. Besides, I had Father and the Dark Lord to consider. I knew what I wanted, of course, but I didn't know how to achieve my goal. Think about it, Hermione. Even you admitted you thought I had something up my sleeve when I kissed you."

"And you did," she said simply.

His smirk was beginning to hurt, but he ignored it. "I did," he agreed.

"So, I have a question," she said. It was something that had been plaguing her mind since he had proposed to her. "What happens after we marry? Life isn't exactly a fairy tale. I have dreams and aspirations. I would like to continue my fight for house elf rights and the rights of other magical creatures, like werewolves. I know you want children and I do, too, but how soon do you want them?"

"Well," he said as he straightened up. He flattened his shirt and unconsciously puffed out his chest a bit. "One can never really tell when children will or will not happen, can they? For all we know, you could become pregnant on our wedding night. I do know that I would rather us not use any sort of birth protection, at least until we've had our first child. Then, if you choose you'd like to wait until our second, or not have a second, I will willingly go along with it." He watched her expression as he spoke and saw the look of distaste cross it. Frowning, he explained, "It's always been difficult for Malfoys to reproduce. As you know, my mother had four miscarriages before she finally gave birth to me. After I was born, though they tried, my mother wasn't able to get pregnant again."

She nodded slowly. "It was the same with my parents," she admitted. "Though I don't know if my mother miscarried. I do know they went to a planned parenting clinic. My mum almost started on a fertility regiment when she finally became pregnant with me."

"And more children?"

The Muggle born shook her head. "They never wanted anymore children. Both of my parents are very career oriented, and I spent most of my first few years with a governess."

"I did as well," he admitted. "Would you want our child or children to have a governess?"

"Yes," she told him. "I think a governess could help our children become well-rounded, educated adults. From what I've learned, there is no school for children of wizarding families who are under the age of eleven. Maybe we could found such a school?"

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "For the less fortunate? Families like the Weasleys, perhaps? Personally, I would still prefer a governess for our children, but I can see how it could benefit single parents or parents who may not be able to afford a governess. It would certainly open up the possibility for both parents to join the work force if the mother would want to pursue a career as well."

"And my own career?" she pried.

"I don't see why you can't have one," he admitted. The truth was, he wasn't really used to women working, but he knew the Gryffindor well enough to know that she would quickly grow bored with gatherings and parties. Owning house elves negated the need to clean the manor, so that option was out as well. "You're an intelligent woman, Hermione, which is one of the many reasons I love you. You are more than welcomed to continue your research and even fight for house elf rights. As a Malfoy, you'll have access to the finances you need to push laws through, though I caution you about actually freeing house elves. Read the books in our library, learn what you can of them." He lifted an eyebrow as she opened her mouth. "I think you might find that the majority of house elves actually enjoy belonging to a wizarding family. We protect and provide for them."

She sighed. "Very well. Will you pursue something?"

He shrugged and waved a hand in the air. "I have an entire estate to run, love. Once Father comes home, he'll teach me more about the family business and finances. Eventually, I'll take over entirely so my parents can spend their remaining years together as they should," he told her.

That seemed to satisfy the young Gryffindor. "Do you see your parents staying with us until they pass?" she asked, revisiting their earlier conversation. "I will admit, Draco, while I adore your mother, I have a hard time trusting your father. He's caused so much damage to my friends and me. I've also seen the way he looks at me."

"How does he look at you?" the wizard asked, frowning.

The Muggle born sighed. "There's a Muggle saying, 'if looks could kill, I'd be dead.' I think that applies here."

"We have that saying as well," he replied, "but Father's not a basilisk, love. He'll walk out of Azkaban a free man whose son is married to one of the people responsible for putting him there." He held up his hand to stop her protest. "I don't blame you, love. Nor am I accusing you. However, we do have to try and see it from his perspective. Even with the dementors gone, Azkaban isn't exactly a pleasant place." He sat back in his chair and waved his hand. "If you remember from history, it was originally the home of an evil wizard who would trick Muggles there so he could torture and kill them. I'd wager their spirits still linger within the halls. Can't make it much of a favoured resort, can it?"

"I remember the tales," she conceded. "Even the Muggles have stories that echo the horrors there."

"Muggles know of Azkaban?" he questioned doubtfully.

She shook her head and he inwardly relaxed as she continued, "If they do know of it, it's little more than rumour. Muggles have wicked imaginations and are… talented at thinking of tortures and horror stories. Go to any horror movie throughout the world and you'd be amazing at how sick some people can be. You'll also see things that remind you of what we know about Azkaban."

"Horror movies?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

She waved the question away. "Doesn't really matter, but I see your point. I can't imagine your father and I ever truly getting along and I can understand some of the animosity he may feel towards me." She sighed. "But you still want them to stay with us?" she asked.

"Only until I am comfortable enough to handle the estate on my own," he promised.

She still had reservations, but she accepted his words. "If you need help," she suggested, "I know a few things about accounting. My mum taught me how to balance a check book. Of course, wizards don't really have check books, but you do have books where you keep track of your finances. That's basically the same thing."

"Careful, Granger," he teased with a smirk, "talk like that might earn you a job as the Malfoy accountant along with being my wife."

_She is so beautiful when she blushes like that_, was his thought as his smirk turned into a more genuine smile and his eyes glittered with amusement.

"House elves, Draco," she said. "I'll help you learn the Malfoy finances, but that's your job. Mine is with house elves."

He winked at her. "Of course, love," he granted. "I only spoke in jest, that is all. Father's already taught me much and I do know basic math. Can't be that hard."

Hermione giggled which caused the blond wizard to frown. Putting her hand over her mouth, she gasped in surprise. "Oh! You weren't joking that time."

The Pureblood's face contorted in irritation. "No, I wasn't."

"Well, I'm sure you'll do fine anyway," she said. "You're a fast learner and you did well in Arithmancy, if I remember right."

His eyebrows rose at that response. "I did well in all my classes, love," he commented. "Father would've clapped my ears otherwise."

She nodded as she sighed. She was glad Draco was being so compromising, but she wondered if that was going to change in time. "It still astounds me that I was termed a 'first generation witch'," she said. "I will admit, I almost did get offended by it, especially since she had called Ted a Mudblood not but a few comments before. However, she sounded so endearing by her term for me. Thinking back on it, it's almost like she's actively trying to see Muggle borns in a positive light."

Draco made a mental note to speak with his mother, but he nodded all the same. "That's what I said before," he stated. "Actually, personally, I kind of like the term. It's not derogatory and actually gives Muggle borns an air of hope. Honestly, each Muggle born just adds more to a dying wizarding world." Continuing, he drawled, "I recently read in the Prophet that successful wizarding births are at an all-time low. The Ministry has actually considered encouraging families to have more than one or two children."

Hermione nodded. "I've read that as well. It'll be interesting to see how they proceed with it. This isn't like a century ago where the Ministry could force marriages or even force people to procreate."

"They can't," he agreed, "but if they state statistics and facts, they could strike fear into the hearts of many of the older families. It could even drive them to create their own rules. Arranged marriages wasn't that long ago."

The Muggle born shuddered. "I'm so glad we're marrying soon," she said as the clock above the mantle chimed. They both glanced at the clock and Hermione's eyes widened. "Is that really how much time has gone by?"

Draco gave a lazy smile and drawled, "Our conversation has been rather riveting. Can't really put a time limit on the future."

"Well, you could," she said, glancing at him. She was surprised to see him staring at her with a look that reminded her of a wolf getting ready to launch itself onto its prey. Her initial reaction was to shy away, for she honestly was unsure, but ever the Gryffindor, she straightened and readied herself. "You've said you wanted children. There's only so much time that that could take place. With men it's one thing, but with women, we do reach a point where we can't have children anymore."

He nodded slowly, having already known this much. "Would you like me to escort you to your rooms?" he asked, knowing she was probably tired. It was midnight, of course.

She thought it over for a moment. "If it wouldn't burden you," she commented. "Mostly, I want to get out of this corset. Perhaps give me a moment to change and then we could return here and have a nightcap?"

At her suggestion, he studied her. He remembered how frightened she had been the previous night and wasn't entirely surprised that she didn't want to be alone. "You're not a burden to me, love," he told her. "I don't mind sharing a nightcap with you at all."

She smiled as they both stood. Together, they left the sitting room and made their way to her rooms.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Not very exciting chapter, but this is the "calm before the storm." What did you all think of Narcissa's new term for Muggle borns? Clever, huh? I thought it was.

**SereniteRose:** One of the things I love about Draco is that you never really know about him. Is he just using her? Or is his feelings actually real? It's an intriguing idea and one can imagine how heartbroken and devastated Hermione would be if she learned he was just using her. I'm not sure what a "blue blood family" is, so I don't know how to respond to that question. As for Lucius... things are going to get really interesting with him soon. Whether he'll ever truly accepts her remains to be seen.

**LanaLee1:** I don't know that Hermione had broken the seal so much as Draco probably didn't place it right. The room itself is pretty clean as neither Draco nor his mother wanted any reminders of what had transpired. Minus the missing chandelier, of course. And I wouldn't disregard everything Andromeda had said, especially in regards to Lucius, but it does bring to question just how much of her words had an air of truth about them. We have to keep in mind, too, that Draco may not have been completely truthful in his words either. He wants to marry Hermione, no questions asked. And he has that constant fear that someone will stop them from getting what he wants. So, he's going to shoot down _anyone_ who gives her even an idea that he and his family might be worse than they seem. Right now, Hermione is still unsure about Narcissa and Lucius, especially with those revelations. While she takes Draco's words to heart and she trust him, she feels the same level of trust for Andromeda. It'll be interesting to see how much of Draco's truth and how much of Andromeda's truth Hermione will finally come to accept.

**SmileSimplify:** Ok, I'll hold the nail so you can hit it properly. Though, I'm not sure I'll really need to do that, you seem to be doing a fair job on your own. You're even predicting things that are going to make people wonder if I had gotten the idea from you. (Just fyi, I've already written Chapter 20 and am working on 21, so no. I can honestly say, my ideas are my own first. Smile is just a good guesser about a lot of things.)

My thoughts on the Malfoys owning the King James Version of the Bible are this: More Bibles have been sold than any other literary book in the world. It's also one of the oldest books we have. (May not have the oldest stories, but it's certainly old in and of itself.) With that said, it really shouldn't come as a surprise that the Malfoys would own one. Before the Statute of Secrecy, they did interact with Muggles on a consistent basis. We've already gathered that they are a studious family. Lucius did do his research on Hermione to help himself in determining just how badly his son had chosen in his mate. (Also to see if he could find _anything_ aside from blood that might help Lucius convince Draco that Hermione really isn't the one that he wants. [We see how well that worked out for him.])

**Dramione101:** Thank you so much for your compliment! I so enjoy hearing how much my readers are enjoying my works.


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione stormed into Harry's office, a rolled newspaper fisted in her hand. Coming up to his desk, she tossed the newspaper onto the desk and threw herself into the chair next to her. He glanced up from the file he was reading and was met with her glare. Confused, he looked down at the newspaper.

**Hermione Granger Set To Wed A Death Eater**

Harry's face contorted into a grimace as his eyes skimmed the article.

_Rita Skeeter reports: None other than our very own Hermione Granger, War Heroine and Brains of the Golden Trio, has decided to marry billionaire Draco Malfoy, the notorious Death Eater who managed to escape imprisonment, a marriage one can assume is more out of financial need than anything. This reporter has learned that she had left her former fiancé, Ronald Weasley, thereby breaking his heart, so she could be with a known Muggle hater. Many questions may flood the minds of my readers, and measures are being taken to learn the truth behind what can only be construed as an outrageous lie. Since the war, many have questioned Miss Granger's insanity and one can only hope a return of her senses before the ill-fated marriage takes place._

Harry scowled as he put the paper down. "I don't know how she found out," he said, honestly, as he met Hermione's eyes.

"Does it matter?" she asked. "I wouldn't put it past Ron to have let something slip. Notice she accused _me_ of breaking _his heart_. Along with that, she pinpointed Draco as some sort of monster, which you and I both know he isn't, _and _claimed I was only wanting to marry him for his money!"

He nodded as he turned back to the newspaper. "I'll have to talk to Ron about it," he surmised.

"No," Hermione stated. "I want this to be put to a stop. I've dealt with the abuse for far too long now. Whether it's Weasley blatantly ignoring me and being rude to me or Skeeter tossing slander about as though it's her god-given right, something needs to be done. If these two don't stop, I will press charges," she said as she stood. "And if that doesn't work, I will have their jobs. Skeeter's right. I will be married to a multi-billionaire and while I could really care less about his money, I will have enough access to his bank account to make sure she never works in journalism again."

"That might be going a bit too far," Harry said.

"No, it's not," the Muggle born argued. "She needs to focus on reporting the truth or, so help me, I will destroy hers. I say the same for Ronald, too. I don't care if he's hurting. He nearly killed me with his abuse and I won't tolerate it anymore." As she spoke, her voice became gradually louder and her face reddened. "_He _cheated on _me_, not the other way around. He blames me for our break up. Why? Because I didn't toss him on my bed and shag his brains out? No more, Harry. I won't, I can't deal with it. My wedding to Draco is less than a week away. We're already going to have to deal with the press as it is."

The fireplace sparked green and both Gryffindors turned to see the highly pissed face of one Draco Malfoy. His eyes shifted to Hermione before turning his attention on the Boy-Who-Lived. "I need to talk to you, Potter," he demanded.

Harry steeled himself. Given what Hermione had brought him, the black haired man could only guess what else was about to happen. "Hermione's shown me the article," he said as he waved the Slytherin in.

Draco stepped back and then through the Floo and tossed a handful of envelopes onto Harry's desk. "Did she tell you about these?" he asked sarcastically, knowing Hermione hadn't seen them yet. "The owl post arrived shortly after Hermione left the Manor. These," he growled, pointing at the letters, "are the tame ones. My mother and I have been bombarded by more Howlers than I thought even possible. We're being threatened, harassed, and verbally abused because of this stupid article."

Harry pushed his glasses up and sighed. "Look, I will do as much damage control as I can, but the two of you must have known this would happen the moment word got out…"

"No, we mustn't!" Hermione shouted.

"My mother had already written a statement about our pending nuptials," Draco sneered. "She was going to bring it to Miss Lovegood today so it could be printed. Now all of that is blown to shit because of this!" He jabbed a finger into the letters.

Harry understood their frustrations. Having grown up as the "Boy-Who-Lived" he was used to the judgements so many people threw at him. "Do you have the statement with you?" he asked, remaining as calm as he could.

Draco was taken aback by the question and stared at the Gryffindor. "No, Potter, I don't," he answered.

Pushing his glasses up again, Harry finally stood and stepped away from his chair. "If your mother can get me that statement, I'll make sure Luna gets it," he said. "I will do everything I can to fix this, Malfoy. I give you my word." He turned to Hermione. "I'll also find out exactly where Rita Skeeter is getting her information. There's no guarantee that Ron is the guilty party, or even alone in his guilt."

"Harry, you can't keep defending him," the Muggle born complained.

"It's not about me defending him, Hermione," the Half-blood snapped. "Believe me when I say that Ron and I are not the best of friends right now. He doesn't even come near the house. I've already told you I was going to get to the bottom of this. If Ron is responsible, he will have consequences to deal with, but I don't think he's acted alone. Someone gave him this idea."

Draco sneered at the Gryffindor. "Then do your job," he growled, his fists clenched at his sides. "If that bastard or press show up at my wedding, I will have their jobs."

"Get me the statement," Harry said to Draco. "And I'll circumvent the owl post."

Draco raised a single eyebrow. "Next Howler I get," he warned, "the bird who brings it will be killed. Got it?"

(II)(II)

Hermione followed Draco through the Floo and grabbed his sleeve. "You can't do that!" she shouted.

He turned on his heel and glared down at her. "I can't do what?" he asked, his voice taking a dangerously low growl.

"You threatened the life of an innocent creature!" she reprimanded. "Voldemort killed Harry's owl because she was trying to protect him. You can't threaten to kill an owl in front of Harry…"

His eyes narrowed to slits as he yanked his arm out of her grasped. "If Potter's feelings are so important to you, then maybe you should marry him!" he barked.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she yelled. "Then you can go and tell all your Slytherin friends how right you were about me. Nevermind the fact that I'm here with you, that we're planning to get married in less than a week."

"Hermione, those owls have been sending us Howlers…"

"That's not the owls' fault!" she interrupted him. "You Purebloods are so quick to blame and punish the lesser creatures. To stomp on them like they're nothing! But face it, Draco, if it weren't for owls or house elves, you would be lost! I'll bet you don't even know how to make a peanut butter sandwich!"

Draco's face and fists were bright red. One quick backhand, and she would be on the ground, begging for his mercy. It took _everything_ to still his hands. "For someone who's always defending those little peons, you're judgement of us Purebloods is rather hasty," he said with a sneer.

Draco knew he said the wrong thing the moment the words left his mouth. Hermione lifted her hand to slap him and he caught it in midair. Squeezing her wrist, he forced her against the wall, but she fought him. When she lifted her other hand, he caught that as well as he wedged his leg between hers and pressed his body against her. "You can stop now," he snarled in her face.

"Let go of me, Malfoy!" she roared as she struggled against him.

But he had her successfully pinned. He lifted her hands above her head and held them with his left hand, allowing his right hand to be free. He cupped her jaw as he covered her mouth with his own. He continued to hold her there, licking her lips and nipping at them. After much fighting, she finally started melting into him. He allowed his right hand to fall so it rested on her waist as he trailed kisses down to her neck.

"Draco," she whispered as she felt his body harden. "Please."

He bit the sensitive part of her neck, earning a moan, and laved at it with his tongue before sucking on the spot. He felt her lift one of her legs to wrap around his waist and he pressed his hardened member against her core. Lifting his head slightly, he lightly blew on her neck. "I want you so bad," he breathed as he nuzzled her ear. "Five more days and we'll be together forever."

He rubbed himself against her and she squirmed. "I don't want to fight with you," she told him.

Lifting his head, his grey eyes met hers. "Then we shouldn't," he said. "It isn't necessary anyway. I will admit, we will disagree about things, we are from two different worlds. Doesn't mean it has to get physical."

She pressed her lips against his shoulder. "I was just so afraid," she said as she rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. "I feel like I've been fighting prejudice my entire life. First against my fellow Muggle classmates. As my magic started to get stronger, my parents felt it prudent to hire a governess because it became more difficult to explain away the strange occurrences that were happening around me. Especially when we didn't even know why I was able to do the things I could do. I was so happy to be at Hogwarts. Yet, I was still judged, not just for my blood, but also for my studious nature."

Draco frowned as he felt her shoulders sag. Dropping her hands, he wrapped her in an embrace as she cried. He had absolutely no idea what had caused the tears, but he had a sinking feeling he was more than likely the cause of them.

Sniffing, she pulled away slightly and rested her hands on his chest. "It's not so bad now," she admitted. "It took some time, but eventually I learned to accept I was different from others. I can almost even understand why your mum calls me a first generation rather than a Muggle born." She gave him a watery smile. "Makes me seem a bit special, doesn't it?"

He did not like the look in her eyes. "Hermione," he said, putting a finger under her chin so he could tilt it up, "you _are_ special. And not because my mother used a new term to refer to you. In a few short days, she'll be calling you 'daughter', but even then, that won't be what makes you special."

"Brightest witch of my age," she stated with a shrug. "Soon to be married to the richest bloke in all of Britain and fighting for elvish rights."

He bopped her on the nose with the tip of his index finger. "Don't forget the mother of my children."

"We will have forever, won't we, Draco?" she asked as she touched the side of his neck, right under his ear.

"Eternity, love," he promised.

She gave a small smile. "And you won't kill any owls, will you? Regardless of how many Howlers we receive?"

He raised a single eyebrow. "If it will make you happy, love, I will refrain for harming any owls just because they bring us a Howler."

The bright smile that rose across her face pleased Draco and he returned it.

(III)(III)

Draco walked into his study and punched his wall. He had managed to keep a cool head for Hermione, but only just. He received letter after letter calling him a monster. Some accused him of brainwashing the Muggle born or kidnapping her. One Howler even yelled at him for getting her pregnant!

He really wanted to smother someone. Maybe he would take up Muggle boxing just so he could relieve some anger on someone's face. He went to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey and a tumbler. He poured two fingers of firewhiskey into the glass before drinking straight from the bottle.

Capping the bottle, he placed it back in the cabinet, picked up his glass, and turned to his fireplace. He really hoped Potter actually did something this time and not try to cover up the Weasel's involvement.

Five days. Draco sat down in his chair and closed his eyes. He would be married in five days to Hermione Granger. His mind went back to that night in December and he reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, and pulled out the picture. Sipping at his drink, Draco stared at the picture.

It felt like only yesterday they were dancing under the stars, whispering about nonsensical things. He still didn't understand how they could be so different in so many ways and yet look so perfect together. Her smile, her eyes, the way her body moved in perfect sync with his.

Sighing, he unzipped his trousers and took out his cock. Stroking it, he imagine what could have occurred if they had continued that night. Would Hermione have let him that night? He liked to imagine she would have. He could easily have convinced her to be with him as he remembered the vulnerable state she had been in. Not only could he have been her first kiss, but her first lover as well. They could have made it truly a night under the stars.

However, he knew that if he had proceeded, they would not have been able to progress to the present day. And he really wanted to marry her. Even that night, under the stars, he knew he wanted her for his wife. He had denied it for so long, thinking they could never have a chance. He couldn't figure out a way his parents would ever allow it. Then his father had been incarcerated and Draco couldn't believe his luck. It had always been easier to persuade his mother to his line of thinking, especially if his father was not around to counter all of Draco's arguments and he would have been.

Thinking of his parents really started to put a damper on his boner, so he immediately turned his mind back to Hermione. He thought of how she would look stretched out on his sheets. Her wild hair spread out across his satin emerald sheets, the sultry look in her honey eyes as she looked up at him. Draco would touch her tenderly and take her gently. Though she would first feel pain, their first time together would not be filled with pain. She would remember the moment with love as he entered her body over and over again. His seed would fill her womb and, with luck, produce the oldest of their children. Though he hadn't said it the other day, Draco did want more than one child. Having grown up an only child, he knew how lonely such a life could be, though his parents did try to make it so that he wasn't so alone. But play-dates with friends only did so much.

His mind saw her underneath him as he pounded away. As time went on, he would teach her different angles and even different types of sex. Her lips would wrap around his cock as he tasted the nectar between her legs. He would be gentle when he entered her arse, making sure she was alright.

It was in this last thought that he found release. He allowed his cum to squirt over his chest, knowing his shirt was now effectively ruined, but he didn't care. He pumped his cock a few more times, squeezing out the last few drops before putting his drink on the end table beside him and pulling his shirt off. He tossed the shirt onto the floor and stood. "Maisey," he called. When the little elf appeared, he ordered, "Clean this mess up and destroy that shirt."

(IV)(IV)

"The Unbreakable Vow, Draco?!" Hermione demanded as she walked into his sitting room the next morning.

He glanced up at her from the lounge chair. He had a book in his hands which he closed over his thumb to mark his place. "What of it?" he asked, confused.

"Your mother just informed me that our wedding would consist of making the Unbreakable Vow. When were you planning to tell me this?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware there would be a problem," he stated, frowning. Sighing, he waved his hand over the book he had been reading and a bookmark appeared, sticking out of the page. He then straightened up and placed the book on the table beside him. "It's an old tradition," he told her. "You've been to wizarding weddings before, I'm sure."

"Yes, but none of them have been subjected to an Unbreakable Vow," she said shrewdly.

He stood and walked to his liquor cabinet. Taking out his bottle of brandy, he poured a hefty amount for himself as well as a finger for Hermione. Putting the decanter back, he lifted the glasses and turned back towards her. He handed her the glass meant for her and took a sip of his own. Though she held the glass, Hermione did not drink.

Draco grimaced and licked his lips. Leaning a hip against a table, he said, "Perhaps the lower class isn't as interested in binding themselves for all eternity. Last I checked, you wanted our marriage to be forever."

"I do," she quickly answered.

Draco shrugged and scrunched up his eyes. "Then what's the problem?"

"My problem is it's barbaric. There's a reason people don't make Unbreakable Vows anymore. If one of us should leave…"

"Do you intend to leave?"

"Of course not!"

His eyes narrowed. "Again, I don't see the problem."

She threw a hand up in frustration and scoffed. She folded her arms and turned away from him. An Unbreakable Vow would mean that she would never have a chance of ever escaping if she felt she needed to.

He drained his glass and, setting it on the table, he stepped towards her and touched her shoulders. When she did not flinch away from him, Draco grew a bit bolder and moved closer to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Years ago," he explained, "the practice of arranged marriages was quite common, even for those of lower class. It was a constant practice that once the marriage produced an heir, the husband or wife or both would seek the arms of others rather than focus on their marriage. At first, such a thing was fine for the Malfoy family. However, sometime during the fifteenth century, the issue of infidelity became a real problem. Unmarried women started claiming their illegitimate children were, in fact, Malfoys and, therefore, were entitled to a portion of the Malfoy fortune." He kissed her shoulder as he pressed himself against her back. "I do believe, however, that the crack occurred when a child was born from a Malfoy wife and was clearly not a Malfoy."

She turned in his arms and looked up at him. "You think I'll be unfaithful?"

He lightly shook his head. "Not at all. However, after the truth was proven, our family began adding the Vow to our weddings to prevent further deception," he told her. "It doesn't necessarily prevent infidelity, but it does ensure honesty."

She wasn't sure she liked that answer, as it left things wide open in a way Hermione wasn't entirely comfortable with. "What exactly are we Vowing?" she asked, looking up at him.

He shrugged. "To love, to honour, to never walk away…" he thought it over for a moment. "To be honest about everything. No matter what."

"To never leave?" she questioned, worry in her eyes.

He smiled softly and nodded. "Yes, love. To never leave," he mimicked kindly. "You'll be mine and I'll be yours. We'll never invite another into our marriage. We'll never choose another over us."

"And you'll protect me?"

He laughed. "You forget, Granger," he said, still chuckling. "I remember you from school and during the war. Somehow I feel you are more than capable of defending yourself." He shook his head and when Hermione tried to pull away in annoyance, he pulled her closer and pressed his forehead against hers. "I doubt you will ever need me to protect you," he whispered. "But if the need ever were to arise, then, yes. I will always give my own life protect you. I just hope that, if the time ever comes, you'll do the same for me." He raised an eyebrow at this and smirked.

She returned his smile with a small one. "I suppose I would end up saving your bloody arse," she said, "rather than the other way around."

He jumped. "Hey!"

Hermione giggled. "You're not the only clever one, you know," she told him. She sighed. "I still want to know what these Vows are. I have a right, since I'll be agreeing to them."

"Alright," he conceded. "I'll show you the book."

"The book."

Draco nodded. "In the library, there's a book which list all the Malfoys ever born, married, and died. It's a bit similar to the tapestry, except it's an actual written record," he explained to her. "It also list all the vows every Malfoy is required to make, and other traditions we have. As much time you spend in the library, I'm surprised you haven't seen it yet."

She shrugged. "I have seen some histories and… accomplishments. Did you know that every single Malfoy ever born was put in Slytherin? And they all became either Head Boy or Head Girl. In fact, there has only ever been one set of twins, a boy and a girl, and both were the Heads of their year. It was the first, and only, time Hogwarts has ever had a brother and sister be Heads together," she said. She became quiet for a moment before she added, "No Malfoy has ever married out of Slytherin. Our marriage will either be scandalous or intriguing to our descendants. Could change the path of the Malfoy family, too, if one of our children ends up in Gryffindor or one of the other Houses."

He frowned. "You shouldn't speak so blasphemous," he said. "You might jinx us."

Hermione giggled. "Oh, I'm sure you'd rather share a meal with the Weasleys before allowing one of our children become anything but Slytherin. And if they did, you'd no doubt be highly disappointed."

He shrugged. "Well… As long as they weren't Gryffindor…." She poked him in the ribs as she laughed. Eyes wide, he stared at her. "Did you just…?" She blushed and giggled as she danced out of his grasp. Narrowing his eyes, he raised a single brow. "You know this means war, right?"

She gave a shout of surprise as he lunged at her. Of course, she could never be faster than him and she squealed as he grabbed her around the waist and picked her up. She squirmed as his fingertips began digging into her sides, tickling her. She started giggling uncontrollably, which only made him tickle her even more.

Her squirming caused them to tumble onto the floor and he quickly rolled them so he was on top of her. He released his hold on her waist and helped her turn onto her back, but he didn't get off of her. They lay there for what seemed like an eternity, catching their breaths and just staring at one another. A single joyful tear leaked from Hermione's left eye and Draco lifted his hand and used the back of his fingers to lightly brush it away.

"I can't wait to call you my wife," he whispered against her lips as he looked into her eyes.

She smiled. "Hermione Malfoy," she tested and Draco's eyes softened. Hermione licked her lips and tried it again. "Hermione Malfoy."

Draco never thought he would ever hear those words spoken aloud. He had never heard anything more beautiful, either. "Say it again," he breathed.

"Hermione Malfoy," she repeated softly, staring up at him. She'd never seen such a look on his face before and it both confused and captivated her. Sure, she had always found him to be rather handsome, but the look in his eyes at that moment made him even more so.

"Hermione Malfoy," he reiterated. He pressed his lips against hers and she sighed into his kiss.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ok, so the Malfoy history I put in this story is not necessarily true. Now, if Mrs. Rowling decides to make it true, that's one thing, but as of right now, this is purely my imagination. (Cool little history, though, huh?) As you all can see, this chapter is the beginning of why I gave this story an "M" rating. I won't hold back ~much~. Just letting everyone know.

**Caius:** Hermione never openly criticized Harry's home. It was a thought and one that she caught herself thinking. Sooo she wasn't being a bitch? Also, everything said and done in her presence, she's keeping track of. She's not completely naive, but she is purposely choosing her battles. She may not have said anything to Narcissa, but she did mention it to Draco and she's not entirely buying his story. But there's a reason for this.

**Chester99:** *Hands you a hammer and a handful of nails* I know I haven't been mentioning it, but she has been going to their library, which is what Draco is alluding to in this chapter. He knows she's been there. He's seen her there. This is partly why she hasn't been around the Weasleys. (That and it's a bit hard to hang out with them when she's getting ready to marry, like you pointed out, their enemy.) Lucius may not have known what that diary possessed, but Ginny doesn't really know that. All she knows is that this guy who her father hates with a passion had given her a book when she was 11 that nearly killed her. In fact, I don't think Lucius even knows now. I'll have to reread my chapters, but I don't think anyone's told him. We do know that he's not above luring children into danger. Whether he meant for Bellatrix to be there or not, he still had a group of Death Eaters with him in the Department of Mysteries and he threatened the children's lives.

**LanaLee1:** Try not to be too hard on Draco. He is thinking of how much he still has to learn from his father. And you'll see in the coming chapters that he isn't wary of compromise. Also, Ginny attacked her, not the other way around. At first, Hermione was pretty calm and did not really become snippy until Ginny started yelling at her. (Not excusing her behaviour, mind.) And she still remains calm. (Which, knowing Hermione, is rather odd for her, to be honest.) With the corsets, I myself have never worn one, but I have worn a bodice. That being said, I have friends who've worn them and I know it takes some getting used to. Being from an old wizarding family, I know Narcissa would wear them and she would expect Hermione to do the same as the new Mrs. Malfoy.

**SmileSimplify:** Yeah, one could argue that she's pretty OOC in this fic, but I'm not overly worried about that. As I've said, the things she's doing is for a reason, even if those reasons aren't quite clear yet. She's also going through her own things mentally. She's not all there, not completely thinking clearly. If she does seem OOC, then that is why.

Harry's not going to miss the wedding. I promise. He's going to want to be there to see his best friend marry, regardless of his own personal feelings of the union. Narcissa is 100% backing the wedding and Hermione will certainly have her support and protection from Lucius. Hermione will have Draco's protection, too, once he sees how his father is around our favourite Muggle born. Draco _knows_ how Lucius feels towards Hermione, but he's hoping that will be different with time. And who knows? Maybe they will?

Is the wedding upon us? I don't know. Maaaybe. But if I told ya that, then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it? As for last-minute surprises, well, they aren't last-minute surprises if you know about them. *Giggles*

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione's dreams confused and terrified her. She woke up in a cold sweat, but could hardly remember what she was dreaming about. She had seen Draco and Ron in her dreams, as well as Lucius. She was never one to put much stock in Divination, so she was tempted to disregard her dreams. Like the nightmares she had of Bellatrix, they were simply thoughts she had during sleep and little to worry about in the waking hours… mostly.

Hermione did believe the dreams were true about one thing: her intuition was warning her. She knew Lucius could not be trusted, and not just because of what others had said about him. She had seen the man, had spoken to him personally, and sensed the danger that premediated off of him like poison. She just had to figure out a way to convince Draco that he truly was as dangerous as she perceived.

The second warning her intuition told her was of Ron. She had no idea what the youngest male Weasley was planning, but she knew he, too, could not be trusted. She knew, even without Harry's "investigation" that it had been Ron who had given Rita Skeeter the tip. She had little doubt the bug was even now trying to find out more information. She just prayed the woman wouldn't get it. For that, she would need help, and she knew it.

Slipping out of her bed, Hermione quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and a light pink jumper with front pockets. She stowed her wand in one of these pockets, wrapped her hair back in a tie, and put on a pair of trainers. She draped her cloak around her shoulders and fastened the broach. She checked herself in the mirror of her vanity one more time before stepping out into the halls.

She knew if Narcissa or Draco saw her walking the halls, they would stop and question her. She had a feeling this was more to watch her, but she wasn't entirely sure. She knew Draco was terrified of her leaving him and she understood why, but she also knew that he knew she would never do that to him. As for Narcissa… Hermione could only surmise the Pureblood witch was so obsessed with the marriage, she feared anything that would deviate from it. In a lot of ways, Hermione was grateful, as Narcissa did most of the planning, allowing Hermione time to explore the Manor. At the same time, the Muggle born was wary of the older witch, with the constant insistence of old-fashioned clothing and traditions. Hermione could easily admit that she was learning a lot, and it was helpful in her understanding of why the Malfoys did some of the things they did, but it was also disturbing. How could Narcissa and Draco both be so easy going with Hermione and yet so cold when it came to others of Hermione's kind?

And they were, too. Neither of the Purebloods thought the Gryffindor heard their conversations, but she had. When they believed she wasn't there, Narcissa often dropped formalities, and while she didn't use the term freely, she wasn't afraid of calling a witch or wizard she had read about a "Mudblood". Nor was she particularly kind when discussing with Draco the state of the Ministry. "Mudbloods will be taking over soon," Narcissa would say.

Hermione wanted to call the witch out on her words, but knew it would be foolish. Besides, while Draco didn't openly disagree with his mother, he never once used the terms or verbally agree with her either. In his case, Hermione concluded the wizard was truly trying to change, while still appeasing his parents. Also, the Muggle born had noticed that not once had Narcissa referred to her as a "Mudblood". This "first-generation" term seemed to please Narcissa and she always spoke kindly of Hermione, whether talking to her son or to someone else.

The Gryffindor was careful to avoid the main drawing room. She wasn't ready to tackle that beast again and she wasn't certain she would ever be. Besides, that wasn't her destination at the moment anyway. She entered the main study and went to the desk. Thankfully, a quill and some parchment was there atop the desk, and she wrote a quick note. Tucking the note in her jumper, she proceeded out of the study and out of the Manor.

Luckily, the Malfoys kept their owls in a small owlery near the back doors. Though, Hermione couldn't really call it "small". Stepping into the room, she let out a low whistle. It wasn't a room. It was a miniature mansion! The room was filled with perches of all different shapes and sizes and massive nesting beds near the ceiling. Holes poked out from the sides of the room that led outside with ample room for the owls to land and walk inside. While most owleries were littered with skeletons of long dead prey and bird poop, this owlery was clean, tidy, and actually had a pleasant smell to it. Hermione could only surmise the upkeep was mostly because the Malfoys detested anything that assaulted their senses.

The Muggle born glanced about, looking at the birds that sat on the perches. There had to be at least twenty birds. And they were all eagle owls. Hermione blinked. "Um… Could one of you help me?" she asked a bit timidly.

The birds stared down at her haughtily for a while. One finally unfolded its wings and jumped down from its perch. Hermione watched the bird steadily. Though she was frightened the bird was going to attack her, she wouldn't flinch or budge until it actually did. She knew she couldn't show fear to these creatures. The bird landed on the perch next to her and looked at her expectantly.

"I need to send this letter to Pansy Parkinson," she told the bird. "Would you mind?"

The bird made a sound similar to what Hermione remembered Hedwig making when she was agreeable. So, the Muggle born reached into her pocket and took the small scroll out. The bird lifted its leg and waited for Hermione to tie the parcel. "Please be safe," she urged the bird.

If birds could sniff derisively, Hermione supposed that this bird would have. It gave her another haughty look, spread its wings again, and flew to one of the holes. Taking a moment to walk out onto the ledge, it flew off.

The Gryffindor couldn't help but think that that had to be the strangest experience with an owl she had ever had. She started down the road with a quick step. Sure, it would be faster to sneak back into the Manor and use one of the fireplaces, but she didn't want to wake anyone. So, she stepped out of the gates and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

To her relief, Hannah was there, cutting into a freshly baked apple pie. "Good morning, Hannah," the Muggle born greeted in a sing-song voice.

The Hufflepuff glanced up and smiled. "Morning, Hermione," she returned. "Where are you headed this morning? And without your fiancé?"

Hermione shrugged. "I was hoping to meet up with Harry at his office, or maybe catch him at his home," she said. "I've some news that I think he'll be happy to hear."

The Half-blood nodded and returned to her cutting. She separated slices onto plates and placed the plates inside a glass display case. "Did you read the paper this morning?"

Hermione's face fell. "I haven't picked up the Prophet since that rubbish Skeeter printed," she said. "What…?"

"Oh, no, not the Prophet," Hannah said, waving her hand dismissively at the mention of the paper. "You know no sensible person bothers reading that puppy paper. No, no. I was talking about the Quibbler."

Hermione's frown deepened. "Apparently people do read the Prophet, if one were to judge by the amount of Howlers Draco and his mum received. Did you know people are actually accusing them of kidnapping and brainwashing me?"

Hannah's eyes widened as she stared at Hermione. "You're joking! All a person would need to do is look at Draco and know there was no way he would need to kidnap you," she said.

Hermione blushed. "He has become more handsome with age, hasn't he?"

"Handsome? Hermione, Draco Malfoy is hot! If anything, these people are just jealous," the Hufflepuff said as she closed the case. "How much you want to wager the only people reading that rubbish are Slytherins and their ilk? Now, the Quibbler… wow, Hermione. You should read it."

The Muggle born blinked. "You wouldn't have a copy, would you?" she asked, feeling a sense of foreboding.

Smiling brightly, Hannah nodded. "Hang on," she said as she dashed into the backroom.

She returned to the counter and handed Hermione the magazine. For a moment, Hermione just stared at the cover in shock. It was an old picture, she knew, and she knew when it had been taken and where. She still had those periwinkle robes. "Now, how…?" she breathed as she touched a laughing Draco as he swung the blushing girl in his arms.

The headline read: **Gryffindor Princess Will Marry Her Handsome Prince Charming**

Hermione quickly flipping through the pages to the head story and read it. Luna made it sound like a fairy tale come true! She briefly spoke of the war and how Draco had realized his mistakes, how he had fallen in love with the Gryffindor on the night of the Yule Ball, and how he had done all he could to win her heart. Luna shot down the allegations Skeeter had made, pointing out how Draco had comforted the Muggle born and pulled her out of her depression. "In a heroic act, the Slytherin Prince saved his princess's life," the article read.

Hermione swallowed passed the lump that had formed in her throat. What had been in that letter Narcissa had sent to Luna? Where had Luna gotten that Yule Ball picture from? There were other pictures, too, that confused Hermione. Pictures of Draco and Hermione sharing a kiss in the Leaky Cauldron when they thought no one was looking. Pictures of them celebrating Draco's birthday where Hermione had smashed a handful of green icing into Draco's face only to have the favour viciously returned amid laughter.

The Gryffindor took a deep breath and sat down. "This makes it look like I had been cheating on Ron," she whispered.

Hannah frowned and took the paper from her. "Where? Where does it say that?" she asked. "It clearly states that you and Draco didn't even become friends until after you and Ron broke up."

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes, but the picture on the cover, Hannah? That was at the Yule Ball," she confessed. "Draco had found me by the Black Lake. I was crying and he spoke with me. Cheered me up by dancing with me. I didn't know anyone had taken pictures…"

The blonde shrugged. "Well, you weren't exactly friends at the time, were you? And you weren't dating Ron at the time. If anything, you were dating Viktor Krum."

"No, I wasn't," Hermione argued. "He asked me to the dance, but we never dated."

Again, the blonde shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it much," she admitted. "After reading that article, no person in their right mind would argue that you and Draco were meant for one another."

"Yeah, if anything, you two sound perfect for one another," agreed another feminine voice.

Turning around, Hermione saw Ginny standing in the door way. She had a hard time deciding if the redhead was angry with her or annoyed at the article. Either way, Hermione stood. "Ginny," she greeted, "look, I didn't have anything to do with…"

The redhead nodded. "I know. Harry got the letter from Narcissa and gave it to Luna," she explained. "Along with a picture of you and Malfoy dancing at the ball." She held up a hand to stop Hermione from speaking. "I don't want to know why you and Malfoy were dancing at the ball. Honestly, it's really none of my business. Hannah's right. You weren't dating Ron at the time, so it really isn't a big deal. Nor do I believe that tripe that witch Skeeter wrote. What I don't understand is how you were able to fall in love with Malfoy so quickly? Malfoy, I can understand because of the article Luna wrote, though it does seem a bit sketchy, doesn't it? All this time he liked you, but he couldn't even stop his bitch aunt from hurting you?"

"If he had tried, she would have gone after him," Hermione told her friend. "You saw that she had no qualms in killing her own family. And it wasn't just Draco's life on the line. If she had known of his feelings towards me, I would not have left that Manor alive. His parents probably would have suffered, too, no doubt."

"Speaking of his parents," Ginny said as she stepped further into the tavern and sat upon the stool next to Hermione. "What are you going to do about Lucius once he's out? I can't imagine you really want him out, nor that you honestly believe him to be good. You're smarter than that."

Hermione took a deep breath and resumed her seat. "I don't trust him," she said honestly. "However, he knows how to perform the spell I need to get my parents back. Plus, he knows the estate and will teach Draco what he needs to know. It's unfortunate, but Draco's education in that regard had been cut rather short when the Dark Lord arrived."

"The Dark Lord?" Ginny questioned with a raised eyebrow.

The Muggle born rolled her eyes. "Sorry," she said. "I've been spending a lot of time with Narcissa lately. Most of the time, I just listen to her talk, occasionally offering a few words here and there. She's very lonely without Lucius, which is sort of the other reason I want him out," she admitted. "I honestly don't know how much more of this two-faced talk I can take."

"Well, at least she likes you," Hannah said. "Neville's gram openly admits that I'm not good enough for her grandson. I swear that woman is more irritating than a Cornish pixie."

"You should hear my mum talk about Angelina Johnson," Ginny pointed out. She gave the Muggle born a sidelong glance. "You still haven't answered my question."

Hermione shrugged. "Draco told me of a summer home they own right outside London. Hopefully, after we marry, I can talk him into moving there," she said. "It'll be close enough to Wiltshire so he could work with his father, yet far enough away that we can have our own lives together away from his parents."

Ginny snapped her fingers and pointed at the Muggle born. "And if by chance Lucius manages to get your parents' memories back…"

The brunette nodded. "I would hate to put anyone in a situation where they are more uncomfortable than they need to be."

"You know Narcissa will insist on having your parents come to the Manor for Christmas," Ginny stated. "She had even said as much the last time I spoke to her."

"Yes, I know," Hermione admitted, "but that doesn't mean they have to eat dinner together every night. Holidays and birthdays, I can understand. Even anniversaries are understandable… to an extent."

"The only thing they should be offering for your anniversary is free babysitting," the redhead said, giving her friend a look.

"Ugh! Draco and Hermione with a child?" Pansy sneered as she entered the tavern. "That will be a depressing sight."

"Parkinson," Ginny growled, "what are you doing here?"

The Slytherin held up the letter Hermione had sent. "I was invited, Potter. And you?"

Hermione stood. "Thank you for coming, Pansy," she said, offering the Pureblood her stool.

But Pansy shook her head. "You seemed almost a bit desperate in your letter, Granger," she stated, leaning against a table. "Your wedding is in three days. You're not getting cold feet, are you? Because you won't get any reassurance from me."

The Muggle born gave a short, humourless laugh and shook her head. "No," she said. "Nothing will keep me from marrying Draco come Thursday. No, actually, I wanted to ask your opinion on something." When the Slytherin lifted an eyebrow, Hermione continued, "You've known the Malfoys your whole life. I know this because at one time, your father had spoken to Lucius about you and Draco becoming betrothed."

"Yes, but Lucius turned him down," Pansy commented. "He wanted Draco to marry Astoria Greengrass, which would have been one of the worst moves he could have made for his family, if it had gone through. Of course, he had already dug a muddy hole for the family by tangling with the Dark Lord. Having his son marry you is actually a big step up."

"That wasn't Lucius's choice," Hermione pointed out defensively. "That is between Draco and me."

"Oh, sure, it is," the Slytherin snorted. "Don't be so naïve, Granger. You're smarter than that. You honestly think Draco would be engaged to you if it didn't meet Daddy's approval?" She shook her head and pointed at the magazine in Hermione's hands. "That boy lives and breathes his family, Granger, and I know you know that. I'm not stupid enough to think you haven't been reading about them and studying their every move. The only reason Draco started to pursue you is because his parents gave him the go."

"Yes, I know," the brunette acknowledged. "Though I haven't been able to figure out Lucius's angle yet, Narcissa is hoping that my influence will build the Malfoy name back up, but that's what I wanted to talk to you about. All three of you actually."

Hermione stood again and began pacing. "Look, that Manor holds a lot of negative memories for me that I'm not entirely comfortable facing right now. In time, I know I can overcome them. Even to the point of living there someday," she said, not looking at anyone as she spoke. "However, I don't trust Lucius. I don't care what Draco says about him, I've seen the worst side of Lucius, and furthermore, I've spoken to him in private. The man hates me with a passion and I know he'll do everything in his power to ruin what Draco and I have the moment the opportunity comes to him. I need to keep him from doing that. I need to know what I can do to convince him that I am right for his son."

She stopped pacing and glanced at the women. "There's something else, too," she told them. "Something Draco and I were discussing the other night. We are planning on having a governess tutor our children when we have them. At least until they are of Hogwarts age. However, we both realized that not all families can afford such a tutor. Furthermore, I was thinking that maybe if a Muggle born is taught about our world before going to Hogwarts, it could make adjusting to our world easier for them, as well as make acceptance easier, too."

Ginny frowned and asked, "So you want to give those who can't afford it a governess? Hermione, as generous as that is, that can be costly. My brothers and I were homeschooled by our mum…"

The Muggle born shook her head. "No. We could never afford governesses for every family. However, Draco and I were speaking of opening a primary school," she told them. "It will help them learn the basics: math, science, reading, writing, and the arts, if they choose. At the same time, like I said, we can help Muggle borns adjust, which will make them going to Hogwarts easier and less of a shock." She shrugged. "I remember our years in Hogwarts. I wasn't the only Muggle born who didn't understand certain things that you have known your entire life."

"Granger, you can't compare yourself to normal Muggle borns," Pansy stated. "You're quite possibly the only Muggle born I've ever known who wanted to know everything about our world that you could get your hands on."

"History of Magic should start in primary school," Hermione pressed. "And not with a ghost for a teacher."

"You have another problem," the Slytherin pointed out. "You have no staff, no curriculum… Where are you going to put this school? The first few years of a child's life should be in easy reach of their parents."

Hermione nodded. "Then we start with a school here in England. Somewhere central. If it works out, maybe we could open a school in Ireland and another in Scotland," she explained. She took out her wand and conjured a roll of parchment where she had written her notes on. "It'll take some planning and work, but I think we could do it."

"And the Malfoy family is going to finance this?" Pansy asked doubtfully.

Hermione shrugged. "At first, yes," she stated. "But we'll encourage donations. The point is to make this school both public and free. No one should have to pay for basic education and children should be taught in an environment with their peers."

"Lucius will never agree to that," Pansy said.

"He doesn't have to," Hermione commented. She looked at Ginny. "That's what I wanted to talk to Harry about. I want to know just how much freedom Lucius is going to have. I know he'll be under house arrest, but for how long?"

The redhead shrugged. "I don't know. With luck, it'll be for the rest of his life."

Hermione nodded. "Well, we need to figure out a location and start putting out feelers for possible teachers. We need kind, gentle teachers who are good with children. We can't have people like Snape on our staff. God rest his soul, I pray he's found peace, but he was far too harsh and his favouritism impeded students from learning."

"Didn't help that he was a bully," Hannah commented.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "He just wanted us all to learn the material. He pushed us to make us better."

"He was never as hard on the Slytherins as he was on others," Ginny argued. "And I don't just speak for Gryffindor House. I had Potions with Hufflepuffs and with Ravenclaws. He was horrid to all of us."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Hermione said, cutting off the argument that was building. "He gone now and I won't have us speaking ill of the dead, especially someone has courageous as him."

Ginny nodded. "Harry told you, then?"

The Muggle born gave her friend a smile. "He did," she admitted. "I have to say, it was quite unexpected, but not surprising in the least. When Harry told me, the past 7 years started making sense. I finally understood who Snape was and why he did what he had done." She shrugged. "I think that might be why I'm leaning towards forgiving the Malfoys." Ginny snorted, but Hermione shook her head. "No, listen. How much do you want to bet Lucius did not know what he was doing when he gave you that diary?"

"Oh, come off it, Hermione!" the redhead scoffed. "He had to know something about it. He was looking to get my dad fired."

"Maybe," the Muggle born agreed, "but I doubt he knew exactly what the book would do. And we both know Bellatrix was not supposed to be in the Department of Mysteries that night. Lucius had even said as much, hadn't he? He snapped at her for showing up."

"Only because he wanted all the glory!" the younger witch argued. "I'm sorry, Hermione, there isn't anything you can say that will convince me to like the man."

Hermione shook her head. "I wouldn't want you to. God knows I can hardly stand him and I really don't want to live in the same house with him."

"Is old Lucius too much for you to handle, Granger?" Pansy asked with a smirk.

Hermione frowned as she looked at the Slytherin. "Would you want to live with someone who hates you with a passion? Someone who has jeopardized the lives of your closest friends?" she questioned. "Someone who was ready to throw you to the wolves in hopes to gain favour with Voldemort?"

Pansy shrugged. "I would do anything if it meant protecting my family," she said. "And that's what he's going to be to you in three days. Your family. So, you'll have to learn to live with him in your life, if not in your home." She raised an eyebrow. "We don't know everything the Dark Lord put the Malfoys under, especially after Lucius failed at the Ministry. Draco wouldn't even speak of it, but I knew he was hurting badly. In the months after the way, he became even more distant and started pushing us all away. Blaise and Theo seemed to catch on faster than the rest of us, and urged us all to stay away from him. They assured us that he would come to us when he was ready, and he did. Though, I don't see him and Goyle ever speaking to one another again."

"Nor do I," Hermione admitted. "He blames Draco for Crabbe's death and, honestly, too much has happened since then that I do believe reconciliation is near impossible." She sighed. "Fact is, Draco didn't go to Crabbe's memorial service. He never contacted Goyle. Grant it, Goyle never contacted Draco, either, but still. I think Goyle felt that it should have been Draco's responsibility."

"Because in Goyle's mind, it was Draco's responsibility," Pansy said. "Draco was their leader. In fact, he was the leader of Slytherin House while he was there. Why do you think Lovegood's article dubs him the 'Slytherin Prince'? Draco, Blaise, and Theo were the leaders, and even then, Draco was above them. People looked up to him and he failed them. Course, it was for good reason, but he still failed them. When the time came, Draco did not lead us into battle. Nor did he make any of the visits he should have after the war. He's never apologized to anyone."

"I wouldn't expect him to," Hermione pointed out and Pansy nodded.

"Nor I. Malfoys rarely apologize for anything," the Slytherin said. "Unless they know they'll be getting something out of it. And even then, most of the time, their apology holds a lot of biting criticism to it."

"Draco apologized to my parents," Ginny said suddenly, drawing Pansy's attention.

The Slytherin nodded. "Of that I have no doubt. You may not believe it, Potter, but he actually liked your twin brothers. He found them funny, though he would never admit it aloud," she told her. "That and, let's think about it for a moment. He wanted to pursue Granger and he knew she wouldn't give him the time of day unless he tried to patch things up with the people he knew hated him." She shrugged. "Apologizing to your parents and being sincere, at this point, is a very Malfoy move. They may be angry with her for whatever wrong they think Hermione did to their youngest son, and they may be annoyed with Draco for taking away their son's fiancée, but I doubt they hold a grudge against him."

"They aren't annoyed or angry with Draco or Hermione," Ginny said. "If anything, they're mad at Ron for what he did to Hermione. What he's continued to do to her. That article Skeeter wrote could have destroyed Draco. And Hermione, too."

Pansy nodded. "Yes, it could have. Your brother and Draco may have been old school enemies before, but I can guarantee they even worse now. The Malfoys do not take such slander lightly." Before Ginny could say anything, Pansy continued, "Lucius has acted a fool on several occasions, yes. He tried and failed at things because he didn't think them through. He didn't plan accordingly. But Draco's a lot smarter than his father. He's more cunning, too. Your brother should watch his back. If he keeps picking at Draco, he's going to lose more than his job. And that isn't a threat, it's a promise. He would do best to leave Draco and Hermione, especially Hermione, alone."

"If Draco tries anything, it will backfire on him," Ginny said confidently. "My brother is a war hero. People aren't going to readily accept anything Draco has to say against him."

Pansy glanced at Hermione and looked back at Ginny. "Do you honestly think Draco would back up any claims he has with just words? Like I said, he's much too cunning for that."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said as she stopped pacing and looked at her friends. "Ron's not going to continue and Draco is not going to do anything to him." Her eyes rested on Ginny. "I can handle Draco and I can handle Ron. But I can't handle both of them on my own. Now, Ron is not allowed at my wedding. In fact, Draco has even said that he doesn't want any reporters there or people who would tell reporters anything. I have to say I agree with him, too. We both agreed on having Luna there as well."

"You know Luna's going to want to report the wedding," Ginny told her. "More than likely, she'll have a cameraman with her as well."

Hermione nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything less from her. I know she'll report the truth of what's going on."

(II)(II)

"Draco!" Narcissa called as she opened the door to her son's rooms.

Draco grabbed his coverlet and pulled it more firmly over his head as he rolled over on his side. He was so perfectly comfortable and warm in his bed. The last thing he wanted to do was get up, so he scrunched his eyes shut as he heard his mother open his bedroom door.

He heard his mother tsk and the next moment, his wonderful cocoon of warmth flew off of him. He naturally curled himself into a ball and glared at his mother. After all, he wasn't the type to sleep with clothing on and the early morning air was cold.

But the older woman wasn't frightened of her son. "Get up and get dressed," she ordered. "Do you know where Hermione is?"

Frowning, Draco peeked his head up from his ball. "What are you talking about? She should be in her rooms," he said.

Narcissa shook her head. "She isn't. Honestly, Draco. You should pay more attention to your bride. You'll be married in three short days. Did she not tell you she would be going off today?"

Concerned, the blond Pureblood uncurled himself and slowly sat up. He didn't bother taking up his wand. Lifting up a hand, he silently conjured a pair of trousers and green y-fronts. As he dressed, he walked into his closet and grabbed a green polo shirt from its hanger. Like his other shirts, this one had the Slytherin crest etched into the left chest.

He really had no idea where Hermione was, though he had a sinking feeling. It made him angry for several reasons, the main one being that she left without informing him.

"Do you have any idea where she is?" Narcissa asked as he was tucking his wand into his boot.

He really did not need to listen to his mother berate his ability to keep track of his own wife. "I have a good idea," he told her.

Draco paused for a moment, tilting his head up a bit to listen to what he thought was the gate. "Maisey!" he shouted as he grabbed his comb and tamed his hair. He did not wait for the elf to address him. The moment he heard the _crack_, he said, "I need you to locate Hermione."

"Miss Granger is here, Master Draco, sir," the little elf answered. "Miss Granger just came through the gate and is heading back here."

The wizard stopped and stared at the elf with narrowed eyes. "Very well. Then inform Miss Granger that breakfast will be served in the dining room and she is expected to be there in thirty minutes," he said as he placed his comb onto his vanity and picked up a bottle. He tipped the bottle and a small amount of gel potion poured into his hand. Putting the bottle back, he smeared the potion over his hands and then through his hair. "And make sure breakfast is ready in that time," he said to the elf before the elf vanished.

He needed these few moments to calm down because he could feel the anger building. He wanted to strangle her. To lash out. How dare she leave! Did she not even consider telling him where she was going? Where had she gone? Who did she think she was to go anywhere without his knowledge?

Draco paused and braced himself on the vanity. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes as he worked to control his emotions. _She came back_, he thought to himself. He then kept chanting that phrase in his mind as he reeled in the emotions he was feeling.

Realization came to him as he opened his eyes and stared into the mirror. He wasn't angry. He was scared. The moment his mother told him that Hermione was gone, he truly believed she had left him.

Picking up a pristine white hand towel, he cleaned the extra gel off of his hands. He took several deep breaths and looked at his mother through the mirror. "Thursday cannot come fast enough," he said, earning a nod from his mother.

"But she does need to learn that she cannot just leave without informing you," the witch told her son.

"I know, Mother," he said with a sneer. "She and I will discuss her behaviour and what is expected of a Malfoy wife." His face relaxed at this statement. "To be honest, she really doesn't know, unless you've told her. She's a Muggle born and is still learning how we function as a family."

Narcissa sighed. "It shouldn't be my responsibility, and it isn't. She may be Muggle born, but it's obvious she has had some training in living amongst the privileged. As her husband, you should guide her the rest of the way," she explained. "She doesn't know the traditions and expectations of our family, and if she doesn't learn them soon, you won't get very far, darling."

He nodded. "Like I said, I will speak with her," he assured his mother.

"Your father will be home soon," she reminded him. "And you know he will not tolerate any disobedience."

He nodded again. "I know, Mother," Draco stated.

(III)(III)

Hermione felt she could slice through the tension in the air with a butter knife, it was so thick. She frowned as she glanced at her fiancé. "Draco?" she tried.

His eyes shot up and met hers. "Where were you this morning?" he asked, harsher than he had meant. He realized his words the moment he said them, and while his face softened, he did not take them back. Nor did he apologize.

Hermione balked and both of her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. It wasn't so much the question as it was the way he had asked it. She immediately went on the defensive. "If you must know, I was at the Leaky Cauldron," she told him shrewdly.

"And you didn't think to leave a note?" he asked. "Who were you with?"

The Muggle born scowled. "I wasn't aware I had to answer to you," she snapped. "We…"

"We're getting married in three days, Hermione," he responded, his cheeks reddening. "_We_ are supposed to be a partnership. That means, I tell you where I am and you do the same. As your husband, I need to know where you are, who you are with, and what you are doing."

"Meaning, you want absolute control," she snarled. "You cannot expect me to agree to this."

Draco could feel his temper rising again and he clenched his fist. "It's not about control," he growled. "I don't really care what you do with your friends, but I would like to know what you're doing and where you are."

"If you don't care, then…"

"It's called respect!" he interrupted her, barking the last word. He pointed at her as he spat, "You are going to be a Malfoy."

Hermione stood up then. "Fine!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "You want respect? You have to give me some first. I can't just keep giving."

He stood as well. "My manor, my galleons," he growled. "I give you clothes, jewelry. You can have anything and everything you want, Hermione. I even ordered my elves to take better care of themselves for you! What more do you want?!"

"You think I care about your money and your grandiose estate?" she yelled. "In the six years we went to school together, where did you get the impression that I care about _things_?! I asked you if we could have a smaller home away from the Manor because I know living with your father is going to be difficult. I don't care what you say about him, Draco. The man hates me. And he's always going to hate me." She glanced at Narcissa. "No matter how many times one uses the phrase 'first-generation witch'." She turned back to the wizard. "Do you honestly believe he's going to buy into those words? Not to mention, I am _terrified_ of walking around here because I am so paranoid I'm going to walk back into that bloody drawing room! Don't you think I deserve a home where I feel safe and secure? You act like it's such a chore to commute between the Manor and a home of our own that you won't even consider the possibility."

"You know I need to learn the estate!"

"And you can still do that, Draco!" she shouted back. "Every other hard working wizard and witch wakes up each morning, eats breakfast, and goes to work. Then, when the day is done, they go home!" Tired, she sat back down and sighed. "You've been put in a rare position in that you actually live where you work, and that's fine, if you weren't getting ready to start a family. Draco, we need the space, the assurance. Aside from Hogwarts, have you ever even lived outside of this Manor?"

The Pureblood wizard clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I don't know how…"

"I'm sure your parents have given you the tools you need to live on your own," she interrupted. "You just don't want to do it."

His eyes narrowed and she sighed again. "We're getting married in three days, Draco," she regurgitated to him. "Don't you think it's time to grow up? Your parents are still here and you can see them anytime you want."

Sitting down, he wasn't sure how this conversation had turned this way. He had been angry, and scared, because she had left without telling him. Now he was angry and scared because… Because… Bowing his head, he closed his eyes.

The reason he hadn't returned to Hogwarts that added year was because of his last two years there. He had spent those years in a constant fear that he would become an orphan. Having the Dark Lord living in his home had been terrifying. His aunt being there as well didn't help matters.

"What is it like?" he asked in a whisper, as he looked down at his hands. "When you wake each morning and realize they aren't there?"

Silence reigned. Food was forgotten. Quietly, Narcissa stood and slipped out of the room. She knew the Muggle born spoke the truth, but it was a bit hard for her to accept. Her son was a man now and, as such, he did need his own space away from his parents. It was time to bring the coddling to an end, though the older witch wanted to hold onto him for as long as she could. As she walked down the halls towards her bedroom, a single tear fell from her eye.

Hermione moved to sit next to Draco and looked down at her own hands. "I cry every day," she said softly. "I rarely sleep and everything I see reminds me of them."

Draco was quiet for a bit longer before finally saying softly, "Both times my father was arrested, I felt like my life was over. I wasn't ready, wasn't prepared. My entire life I had spent depending on him. I… I didn't know what to do. I still don't know what I'm doing half the time. I fly around the estate and I feel like an idiot when one of the employees start talking to me."

The Muggle born nodded as she glanced at him. "He'll be released soon," she said. "And he'll teach you all the things you need to know. From what I've learned of this place and you, you already know much of it. You understand finances and costs, you just need to hone your skills." Her eyes fell to his hands and she reached out and threaded her own fingers through his. "Point is, Draco. You don't need to be around your father all day, every day. You already know how to care for yourself. You've done it, and whatever you can't get? Well, that's why I'm here. We can do anything we want to do, so long as it's together."

"We can't do that if you leave without telling me," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to the original topic as he squeezed her hand.

Closing her eyes, she nodded. "I agree," she conceded. "I should have said something." Looking up at him, she gave the wizard a shy smile. "I guess I still have a lot to learn as well."

"So, what did you do?" he asked, this time much calmer.

She told him about the little meeting she had with the girls in the Cauldron. To her, it seemed that Pansy was the one most on board with the primary school.

"You talked to Pansy?" he asked, surprised. She nodded with a smile. "You," he said, pointing at her. "You. Talked to Pansy?"

She giggled. "It's not like she's some sort of viper," she admitted. "She's actually very intelligent and had quite a few really good ideas."

He nodded. "She can be tough, but once you break down that rough exterior, she's pretty cool. She actually has quite the sense of humour, too, even when she's not being degrading," he told her. "She'll be quite the asset to the school and I commend you for earning her trust."

She shrugged. "Well, honestly, I think she's doing it mostly for you," she said, giving him a side glance and knocking her shoulder against his. "She still likes you, you know?"

He straightened. "Of course, she does," he said, smirking. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. "Only you would be that conceited," she giggled.

"It's not conceit if it's true," he defended, chuckling.

The sound of Draco's stomach growling, completely undignified, sent them both into a round of uncontrollable laughter. "Oh, no!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to speak through her giggles. "Those poor house elves! They went through all that trouble and we didn't even eat."

He shook his head. "They'll be fine," Draco said. "Though, we should probably go to Hogsmeade or even Diagon Alley and get something."

* * *

**Author's Note:** There's the Hermione Granger everyone knows and loves! *Giggles* Told you all she was still there. So, do you think Draco got the message?

**Dramione101:** There's so much more that's going to happen in the chapters to come. I promise.

**SereniteRose:** Yeah, I never understood that with Harry either. I mean, as best friends go, I guess it makes sense, but it's almost like Harry latched on to the first person who looked at him without judgement. Not saying Harry is weak, because he most certainly is not. However, when it comes to Ron, he does seem to let things slide too many times.

**Chester99:** This is why Hermione mentioned to Draco that she had been considered for Slytherin as well. If you think about it, she could have done really well in Slytherin. She has all the traits. The_ only_ thing she is missing is the blood, which to me is a shame.

**SmileSimplify:** Isn't that always the way with Hermione, though? This sort of treatment of her is even present in the books, though a little less prevalent than what I've shown. I'll fix that little error, too.

Hope you all enjoyed this little chapter. I love a fiery Hermione! I do have a request, though, guys. Anyone here good with making covers? I'm thinking this story could really use a kick ass cover, but I'm not that great at making them.


	22. Chapter 22

Hermione sat at her vanity and allowed Maisey to fix her hair. She was already dressed in what she thought was the most beautiful set of robes in the world. The top was pure white silk with small diamonds covering the corset. The white silk skirt was long and when Hermione stood, it actually dragged quietly along the ground. A diamond tiara sat on the vanity and Maisey picked it up.

The tiara was heart shaped, with princess cut diamonds all along the shape. The white gold band was about an inch thick and had two small combs, one on either side, to grip her hair more firmly. At the point of the heart, a single, teardrop diamond dangled into the empty space.

"Allow me, please?" Harry asked as he stepped into the room.

The Muggle born turned in her seat with the largest pink lipped smile she had ever given. Diamond teardrop earrings twinkled in her ears and her eyes shined from her happiness. "Harry!" she breathed as she stood up and rushed into his embrace.

They held one another tightly for a moment before Harry gently held her at arm's length so he could look at her. "You're beautiful, Hermione," he said, smiling down at her.

She turned in his arms and looked in the floor length mirror standing next to them. "I feel like a princess," she admitted as she leaned into him.

He frowned slightly at that. "Well, as a princess, aren't you missing something?"

She stepped out of his embrace and watched him as he gently picked up the tiara. Her smile widened as he delicately placed the jewel encrusted ornament upon her head. "Now, you look like a princess," he said as he kissed her cheek. He took a step back and looked at her again. "The Malfoys don't hold back, do they? How real is this?" he asked, lightly touching the tiara.

Hermione sat back down and let Maisey finish her work as she replied, "Narcissa told me it is a family heirloom. It's actually something every Malfoy bride has worn, and it is very real. The diamonds alone are no less than one or two carats each, if not more. The gold used to be yellow until white gold was introduced in the '20s. I believe it was… Lucius's father who had it replaced with white gold. Claimed it looked better."

Harry raised his brows at that. "And the dress?" he questioned.

The Muggle born blushed and looked up at him. "It's an original," she explained. "And it's new."

"Let me guess. The diamonds are real and no less than at least a carat or two?" he teased. At her nod, he chuckled. "Like I said, they really go all out."

She shrugged. "Well, marriage is an important part of a Malfoy's life," she told him, sitting up straight as Maisey placed a tear drop diamond necklace around Hermione's neck. "Although, I have to admit this is rather extravagant."

"It is," the black haired man agreed as his wife stepped out of the bathroom.

"Oh my God! Hermione!" the redhead squealed. Ginny was dressed in gold and silver robes and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. "You look gorgeous!"

The Muggle born giggled as Maisey finished. Standing up, Hermione did a small twirl towards Ginny and stopped when they met. "You look gorgeous too! Oh God, Gin. I'm so nervous! What if I mess up my words? What if…?"

"You won't," the young Pureblood said. "Remember? Narcissa and Harry will be doing most of the talking. You just have to say 'I will' when the time comes." She looked at her husband. "I will say this is the first wedding I've ever been to where the vows were exchanged with an Unbreakable Vow. It almost seems a bit… old-fashioned?"

The wizard shrugged. "Well, the Malfoys are an old, traditional family. It makes sense," he said. "Especially given how until recently, their marriages were arranged."

Ginny shuddered. "Though, honestly, even if my marriage had been arranged, I'm sure my father would have chosen you anyway," she commented, smiling up at the Half-blood.

They all turned at the sound of a knock at the door. Luna's voice chimed through, "Hermione? Mind if I come in?"

"Oh, of course, Luna, please do!" the Muggle born called back.

The Ravenclaw entered the room with an absentminded smile. "Oh, Hermione, you wouldn't mind if my photographer came in, would you? Maybe snap a couple shots for the Quibbler?" she asked.

The Muggle born shrugged. "Not at all so long as I get a copy," she conceded.

Luna nodded in agreement and waved the short wizard inside. The next thirty minutes was given to the flashing camera and Hermione's poses. Of course, Hermione had no idea how she was supposed to pose, but the photographer set her straight against a pale blue background. With a wave of his wand, the photographer turned the background into one that was red and green. Before Hermione could protest, the crests from Slytherin and Gryffindor emerged within the background.

By the time the pictures were finished, Hermione was exhausted, but there was no time to rest. Narcissa had come in and informed the small group of friends of the arrival of all the guests. "It's nearly time, darling," she told Hermione and she smiled. "You look lovely." She turned to Harry. "I hope you have been studying your lines, Mr. Potter," she said to him coolly. "Notecards are not allowed."

The bespectacled man nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy. I've gone over them several times and have even practiced to make sure I have them sorted," he told her.

The older witch gave him a tight smile and turned her attention back to Hermione. "Now, since Mr. Potter will be walking you down the aisle, Hermione, I've asked Theodore to walk with Mrs. Potter," she said, glancing at Ginny. "I do hope you don't object to this."

Ginny shook her head. "This day is about Hermione and Draco," she acknowledged. "I don't really mind Nott anyway, but even if I did, I would put aside any differences so that my best friend would have a great day."

The older witch studied the young Gryffindor for a moment before nodding and turning her attention back to Hermione. Her face grew kind as a soft smile spread upon her lips. She stepped up next to Hermione and placed a hand on either of the Muggle borns arms. "Draco is going to love the way you look," she said. "Now, Maisey has your bouquet of flowers. Draco said you preferred lilies over roses. I hope that is correct?"

Hermione nodded and the Pureblood witch snapped her fingers. Maisey did bring Hermione the most beautiful bouquet of flowers and the Muggle born took a deep breath. She looked in the mirror one last time. "For better or worse," she joked, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she turned to Harry.

He glanced at Ginny, who gave Hermione a hopeful smile. Offering Hermione his arm, Harry led his best friend towards the gazebo outside where Hermione's soon-to-be husband waited just as nervously.

(II)(II)

Draco straightened his tie again and ran a hand through his hair. Glancing at the clock, he loosened his tie a little. Why did he put it so tight? It was almost time. He paced the length of the floor as Nott and Zabini entered the room.

Nott took one look at his childhood friend and immediately went to the bar. Pouring Draco a finger of firewhiskey, he lifted the glass up to the pale blond. Draco stopped, took one look at the glass, and shook his head, resuming his pacing. "Hermione would never forgive me if I attended our wedding drunk," Draco told his friend.

"I doubt you'll get drunk from one drink, mate," Nott chuckled, holding the glass up again.

Stopping again, Draco blinked. "One?" he asked. He licked his lips as he stared at the drink. "One drink wouldn't get me drunk, no. It'd just take the edge off." The dark haired man smiled and nodded, as he tried to hand the drink to Draco, but again, the blond would not take it. The blond added, "Which is what I told myself for the past four drinks."

Zabini burst into loud chuckles and slapped Draco's back, rattling the pale blond. "And this is coming from the man who lived with the Dark Lord for a year!"

Scowling, Draco shrugged the black man off of him and roughly pushed him away. "Don't remind me," he growled, his lip curling at the corner. "Have either of you seen Hermione yet?"

"No," Nott answered as he downed the drink he had intended for Draco. "But I reckon she's even more beautiful than she was the night of the Yule Ball."

"Of course she is," Zabini readily agreed as he helped himself to a drink. "She's much more mature now and she's taken to wearing corsets. How'd your mum convince her to wear them, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged. "Hell if I know," he said. "You know Mother has her ways."

"She probably gave Hermione a lesson in Malfoy tradition," Nott suggested as he poured himself another finger of whiskey.

"Stop drinking that," Draco snapped. "I need both of you sober for the next few hours."

"Why? We're not getting married," Nott said with a frown as he capped the decanter.

The blond rolled his eyes. "If you think Hermione will be upset if I got drunk, what do you think she'll do if either of you got drunk?" he asked. "Wait until the reception, then you can both get yourselves pissed."

As he placed the decanter back behind the glass, Nott made a sour face. There was no fun to be had by anyone while Draco was nervous. "Would you like a Calming Draught, mate?" he asked his friend.

Draco shook his head. "No. That will just put me to sleep," he said offhandedly as he fixed his tie again. "No. I'll be fine. I just…" He took a deep breath and held it. Closing his eyes, he counted to ten before releasing the breath slowly. He did this several more times until he could feel his heart start to slow. Opening his eyes, he gazed at his friends and fisted his hand in determination. "I can do this."

Turning, Draco looked in the mirror. Blinking once, he picked up his comb from the vanity and smoothed down his hair. He stared into his own eyes in the mirror. "I'm going to get married."

(III)(III)

In the end, Narcissa had done the majority of the planning for the wedding, which was a good thing, in Hermione's opinion. The garden was set up beautifully with a small, marble path that led to the white gazebo. What Hermione first thought were fireflies turned out to be small fairies who lit up the path and danced around the guests and in the trellises and arches along the path.

Hermione held onto Harry's arm as they walked slowly along the path. She could see the flowers peeking out of the white trellises and couldn't help but smile. Lavender. It was such a beautiful and delicate scent. When they came to the opening, Hermione's eyes widened and her smile brightened.

Rows of white folding chairs were lined up neatly leading to the gazebo. Most of the people sitting in the chairs were people Hermione knew. Ministry workers, friends that she considered family, old Hogwarts teachers, and even a few people she didn't recognize all sat, waiting and watching.

She didn't know where the music came from, but as the music started, the people all stood and turned their attentions to her. The largest of them all was Hagrid, who had an actual blanket he was using as a handkerchief. And he was using it, too. People smiled at Hermione as she and Harry walked down the aisle, but the biggest surprise to the Muggle born was the sight of Molly and Arthur Weasley, who sat in the front. They both smiled at her, but Hermione could see the unease in Arthur's eyes and the question in Molly's. The young Gryffindor knew she would have to face them, to give them some sort of explanation, but she had no idea what she was going to tell them. As it was, she really did not think they would have even attended, though they were given the invite. She saw the other Weasleys as well, though Ron was blessedly missing.

Hermione glanced up at Harry and he gave her a reassuring smile. "You didn't think they would miss this, did you?" he whispered in her ear.

Tears filled her eyes at that and she didn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she just shook her head and turned her attention to the six people standing at the end of the walk, under the gazebo. Draco looked handsome as ever, with his hair slicked back and his black robes perfectly pressed. Next to him, Theo and Blaise stood in equal states of dress. Theo's smile was reassuring, while Blaise looked as though he was laughing at something.

Ginny and Luna stood up there as well, next to where Hermione would be standing. They wore matching gold and silver robes and their hair was styled in buns. They both carried matching bouquets of lilies. Hermione knew that Luna's photographer wasn't far away, and indeed, saw him next to Molly, snapping a shot of Hermione and Harry as they continued their journey.

In the centre of the gazebo stood Shacklebolt. He wore black robes, and had an official Ministry seal pinned to the upper left side of his chest. Hermione turned her attention back to Draco and their eyes met finally. She could see the tears that refused to fall and the large, almost goofy smile plastered on his face. They stopped when they reached the gazebo and Harry turned to give Hermione over to Draco.

"Don't hurt her," the bespectacled man warned Draco one last time.

His smile faltered as he lifted a haughty brow. "I won't," he told his old nemesis as he gently took the offering. He gazed down at his bride and his smile returned, but softer. "You're beautiful."

She could feel the blush creep across her cheeks and she dipped her head down a bit as she smiled. "Thank you," she whispered. "You look handsome yourself."

He winked at her and together, they turned their attention to Shacklebolt. The large black man smiled at them and addressed the audience. "We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Hermione Jane Granger and Draco Lucius Malfoy. If there are any who object to this union, please speak now or forever hold your peace." He paused as his eyes drifted over the group of seated people. There was plenty of seat shifting and shared looks of dubiousness. After a few moments where no one spoke, he continued, "Albus Dumbledore used to always say that love knows no bounds. In the end, it is the heart, not the environment, which determines who we love. What we are witnessing today is the epitome of what Dumbledore often said. Two people from different worlds are joining today. Yes, there will be hardships, all marriages have them, but when there is love, you can conquer anything." He looked down at the couple and gave them each a small smile. "As with all Malfoy marriages, Unbreakable Vows have been prepared for each of you to take. Do the two of you consent to performing this spell?"

"Yes," Draco and Hermione said in unison.

Shacklebolt nodded. "Then grasp your partner's left arm," he instructed.

Hermione handed her bouquet to Ginny and turned to look at Draco. They lifted their arms and held onto one another as Shacklebolt stepped back and Narcissa took his place. Taking out her wand, the Pureblood tapped on their joined hands and looked at Hermione.

"Will you, Hermione Jane Granger, now known as Hermione Malfoy, swear to honour and obey Draco as his wife?"

The Muggle born's eyes rested on Draco. "I will," she answered.

"Will you, Hermione, care for him when he is ill and stay by his side when he is not, to be there for him during both good times and bad times?"

"I will."

"And will you, Hermione Malfoy, promise to never leave him or lie to him?"

"I will."

As Hermione answered each question, a golden string dropped from Narcissa's wand and wrapped itself around the joined arms. Once she was finished, Narcissa moved to Draco's side and Harry stepped up to take her place. Taking out his own wand, Harry held the tip over the pair of arms and stared at Draco.

"Will you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear to honour and protect Hermione Jane Granger, now known as Hermione Malfoy as her husband?"

"I will," Draco responded, looking into Hermione's eyes.

"Will you, Draco Malfoy, care for Hermione when she is ill and even when she is not? To be there for her in good times and bad?"

"I will."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "And will you, Draco Malfoy, promise to be honest with her. To never cheat on her with another woman, or leave her?"

Draco's eyes shifted to Harry as he heard the slight alter of the vows. He lifted a brow as he saw the clear challenge in Harry's eyes. Smirking, he let his eyes fall back to Hermione and answered, "I will."

The last golden string fell from Harry's wand and the bespectacled man stepped away to give Shacklebolt room. The Minister lifted his own wand and waved it over the couple. "Remember the vows you both have made, for they will last until your dying breaths," he said as a thick golden rope replaced the golden strings around the couple's arms. "Hermione Jane Granger, from this moment forward, you will be known to the world as Hermione Malfoy. Draco Lucius Malfoy," he paused. When Draco looked at him, a smile curved up Kingsley's lips, "You may seal your vows with a kiss."

Draco smiled and gave a single nod. Turning to Hermione, he cupped her cheek and dipped his head, giving her a tender kiss. The room erupted into applause and the newly married couple broke their kiss and turned to the crowd of onlookers. Shacklebolt's voice boomed over the applause, "It is my honour and pleasure to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy."

(IV)(IV)

Hermione's eyes lit up as she and Draco walked into the ballroom. She didn't know how Narcissa had managed it, but there was a live band there. The wedding cake stand regally in a corner at the far side of the room and had several tiers of white icing with silver and gold piping. Two miniature figurines, looking like the couple, stood at the top of the cake and twirled around in an elegant waltz. Near the rather large cake was a long white clothed table with two tall chairs in the centre and four smaller chairs on either side. Hermione could only surmise that was where the wedding party would be sitting

There were smaller tables lined along the walls with silver tablecloths. Each cloth had gold etching and the Malfoy crest in the middle, also embroidered in gold. The cherry wood chairs had large golden Ms on the backs and the middle of the ballroom was cleared with enough space for multiple couples to spread out and dance. A wet bar sat in the corner of the ballroom closest to the door.

"Dinner first?" Hermione asked as Draco led her to the table.

He gave her a smile and nodded. "Of course," he answered, pulling out one of the tall chairs for her.

Once Hermione was seated, Draco took his place beside her and the others joined them. Harry, Ginny, and Luna on Hermione's side and Narcissa, Theodore, and Blaise on Draco's. Hermione glanced longingly at the spot where Harry sat, wishing it were her father there instead. Though, she was grateful for Harry, there was something about a girl's father and mother being at her wedding that Hermione had often dreamed of. Something she would never have.

After a moment of sitting and getting situated, Narcissa stood up and raised her glass. As she did so, all the wine glasses magically filled with a white wine. Almost in perfect sync with one another, Hermione and Draco lifted their glasses as well and glanced up at the Malfoy matron.

"I would like to thank everyone here for attending the union of my son to this wonderful girl," Narcissa said. Though she had no microphone, her voice could be clearly heard as she still had an air of confidence about her that quieted the noise of all others. "I had not had the pleasure of getting to know Hermione before she and my son had started dating, but as I've gotten to know her, it is hard to imagine my son in a more perfect match. I am only remorseful that my husband was unable to witness this day." She paused for a moment, seemingly lost in a memory, and Draco straightened his throat, effectively shaking his mother out of her daze. The Pureblood witch smiled at her son before looking lovingly at the Muggle born. "I have never seen my son as happy as he is when he is with you, Hermione. You may not see it now, but you've truly brought something beautiful in his life. Something neither his father nor myself could ever do." Draco felt his cheeks grow warm and knew they were turning pink as he grinned sheepishly at Hermione. The Muggle born smiled brightly and giggled at Draco's expression. Narcissa's eyes softened. "You were right as well, darling," she told the younger witch. "You and Draco deserve your own home where you can grow as a married couple and begin raising your children. In this, I believe Lucius would agree with me. As such," she lifted her free hand and a scroll wrapped in green ribbon appeared in the hand. This she handed to Draco. "It's not as large as the Manor, however, I believe it will suffice for a young, growing family."

Draco placed his glass back on the table and unfurled the scroll. Inwardly, he frowned at what he was reading. He knew his mother had heard that conversation they had had and he wasn't ready to leave. He also knew his own parents had lived in the Manor, even while his grandfather had been alive. However, none of this showed on his face as his smile widened and he showed the scroll to Hermione. "It's the deed to a house," he told her, though she had already guessed the contents.

The Gryffindor glanced at the parchment and then looked up at her new mother-in-law. "Thank you, Mother," she whispered. "I don't know how we could ever repay you."

Narcissa wrinkled her nose. "Just don't forget to bring the grandchildren over for Christmas," she said and the couple laughed. Narcissa lifted her glass once again. "To Draco and Hermione. May their lives be fruitful and full of laughter and love."

The rest of the guests echoed her sentiments and everyone took a sip of their wine. As Narcissa sat back down, Harry stood up. "Unfortunately, Hermione, I don't have a house to give you," he joked with a half-smile, causing the Muggle born to chuckle. "However, I do have a few words to say, and I'm going to be completely honest for a moment, if you'll forgive me, Malfoy," he stated as he glanced at the blond wizard. Draco frowned slightly, not really sure where the bespectacled man was going, but gave a single nod for him to continue nonetheless. "I've never liked you," Harry began. "During our years in Hogwarts, you were a bully and you tormented my friends and myself for years. However, even I could see the changes you began going through both during and even after the war. You're not the same person I knew in school and you did something that no one else had been able to do since the war has been over. You've managed to bring Hermione out of her shell. She smiles a lot more now and, while there is no doubt in my mind that she still mourns over her parents, she's… getting through it. And you're helping her. This is something neither Ginny, any of our friends, nor myself have been able to do.

"I've always considered Hermione the closest I'll ever come to having a sister, and I couldn't be more grateful that she has found you to help her through life. For that, I thank you. While I don't wager we'll ever be friends, I am content in the idea that you will take care of and love Hermione as much as, if not more than, I do. I wish you both the best. To Hermione and Draco." He said, and the words were echoed through the ballroom again before everyone took a sip of their wine.

A shit-eating smirk lit up Theodore's face as he stood. He propped a leg up on his chair, earning a derisive sniff from Narcissa. He winked at her before looking at Draco. "We had some great times, didn't we, mate? Sure, Hogwarts was fun. Terrorizing the first years, pranking old Filch, breaking hearts, and Merlin knows you did your fair share of the latter," he said with a laugh. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Mrs. Malfoy," he corrected, looking pointedly at Hermione. "Many of us would brag how he was, and still is, the Slytherin Prince of Hogwarts, but he was far more focused on his studies than you'd realize. He didn't have much time to spend shagging slags."

"Theodore!" Narcissa reprimanded with a hiss.

Blaise sniggered and Draco gave Hermione an apologetic shrug in response. The Muggle born rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"That's not to say he didn't, of course," the dark haired Pureblood continued. "He just wasn't as… consistent as Blaise or myself. And then his old man was incarcerated…" Theodore stopped then, glancing down at his glass. "I never thought I would ever see Draco look so dejected. So scared. He never said anything, but he didn't really have to." Glancing back up, his eyes fell on Hermione. "See? I've known him my whole life. We've been friends since we were in diapers. Maybe even before then. I knew the moment it happened, too. Blaise and I both did. We tried reaching out to him, but he wouldn't have any of it." He licked his lips. "After the war was over, when all was said and done, Draco pulled away even more. Not just refusing to return to school, but also just not being around. He just… shut himself off from the world."

Theodore took a deep breath. "You did, too, Hermione. I remember being with you in the Common Room. The hours spent… I won't go into detail of all we spoke of. I won't disrespect your confidence in that way. I was grateful, am still grateful, for you allowing Blaise and myself into your world. In that year we shared a Common Room, you taught us just how closed off we had been our entire lives. When I saw Draco in that bookstore, looking at Muggle books of all things, it was my hope that he was doing it for you." When she gave him a puzzled look, he smiled. "Like I said, I've known him for a long time and I know you and I have spoken of this. Remember that night after supper when you, Blaise, and I were sitting by the fire. I think we had taken our last Charms test earlier that day. I remember the three of us talking about the years before the war, in particular, the Yule Ball. Blaise and I both admitted to how beautiful you were, but even our compliments could never compare to what Draco had thought of you that night. I said as much then, too. I told you, though you laughed it off and didn't believe me."

Draco shifted in his chair. Putting the deed on the table, he slipped his hand into Hermione's. Lifting their clasped hands up and kissed the back of her hand. They shared a look and he gave her a soft smile. They turned their attention back to Draco's best friend as he continued, "I knew you were hurting, Hermione, just as I knew Draco was. When we were in that tavern the night Draco made a reappearance into society, he told Blaise and I that he was planning to pursue you. Oh, not in so many words, but neither of us are stupid. We both knew, I believe. And I couldn't be happier for him. I knew he was the right kind of person to bring you back and vice versa. I want to thank you, Hermione," he said. "Thank you for loving my friend and for giving him a chance at happiness." He lifted his glass to her and gave her a wink before taking a sip of his drink and sitting back down.

"A chance at happiness," Ginny scoffed as she stood. "Merlin knows you don't deserve it, Malfoy," she said, looking at the blond. "At least, I never thought you did. I didn't know much about the feud between our fathers before I started Hogwarts. However, after I was Sorted, I quickly learned just how foul you and your father both were. When you weren't trying to thwart or bully Harry and the rest of us, you were bullying others. What Hermione ever saw in you, I never understood, because I can't tell you the number of times I caught her staring at you in the Great Hall or sneaking to the Quidditch pitch just to watch you practice. She would deny it, of course, but I knew the truth. We often talked about it, too, with Lavender and Parvarti in the girls' dorm." She shook her head as she placed her drink back on the table and leaned against the table. Harry held out a hand to steady her and she patted his shoulder. "I'm alright," she assured him in a whisper. She cleared her throat and glanced up at Draco. Seeing the look of concern in his eyes, she gave him a soft smile. "And that look tells me all I need to know about you," she said in a louder voice, so everyone could hear her. "Years ago, before the war, I never would have seen that look from you directed at me. In the past couple weeks, I've witnessed some incredible things about you that I still have some trouble believing, but," she sighed and closed her eyes, "it's hard to ignore a hippogriff in the room."

Draco's eyes fell to the glass Ginny had been holding and he noticed she hadn't drank any of the alcohol. Or, if she did, it was very miniscule. He glanced back up at her. That's when he noticed the bags under her eyes and the paleness of her cheeks. The hand that wasn't on Harry's shoulder rested on the table, in an obvious attempt to keep herself steady. Draco said nothing, but the question in his eyes translated to Ginny when he met her eyes again.

Her lips thinned and she subtly shook her head. "Nott is right. I don't know what's happening between you and Hermione. I'm no Seer, so I can't predict what's going to happen, but this isn't Hogwarts anymore. And we are no longer in a war." She paused again and turned to the other guests, stopping when she saw her mother. "The other night, my mother and I got into a row because I was still in denial that this wedding was going to happen." She looked back to Draco. "I was completely convinced that you were, and are, just like your father, but then my mother said something that made me think. 'You can't judge a person based on the sins of their parents.' The truth is, you aren't your father. Yes, you've made some mistakes, some major ones. And you are going to have to live the rest of your life trying to make up for those. Honestly, nothing you do will ever be enough. However, I also see how much you're trying. If you keep on this path, you may one day be a better person. If not you, then most certainly your children will be. You have a good woman, Malfoy. She's my best friend. My sister. And she is one of the best people I know. I know she can help lift you up to be the best person you can be, if you allow her. I still don't think you deserve her," she admitted. "But I can say this much. You do deserve her far more than my brother ever did." She paused again and pressed a hand to her abdomen. "My brother hurt her so badly. Not just once, either. However, ever since you began dating Hermione, not once have you treated her the way he did. All I ask is that you keep doing what you're doing, Malfoy. Keep treating my sister well. Love her, take care of her, and make her happy… It's all I ask. If you continue to do these things, I promise to never speak ill of you. The past is the past. This day is the day where everything has a new beginning. I won't hold the grudge that our families have held for centuries. We are not our parents."

She held his gaze a moment longer before returning to her seat. She didn't pick up her wine glass, but instead grabbed the glass of water beside it. Ginny took a long drink before placing the glass back onto the table and watching as Blaise stood.

The black man cleared his throat and straightened his robes. "Well. Not quite sure how I'm going to top all of that," he jested, as he picked up his glass. Scattered chuckles could be heard around the room, but they were quickly hushed. "I'm not really good at speeches," Blaise said. "I'm even worse at being making clever quips over events of the past…" He gave a short, huffing chuckle and shook his head. "Honestly, Theo said pretty much all I wanted to say." He looked at the couple. "After all these years, mate," he told Draco, "I honestly didn't think you'd manage to do it, especially after all that happened with the war. I've actually had the pleasure to get to know Hermione, too, and I have to say… She is the Gryffindor Princess in every way." He glanced at Hermione. "And that's not something to be mocked," he told her. "You've earned that title, regardless of what anyone says. I can say the same thing about Draco, too." He smirked. "Though, I almost beat him, he still managed to be Head Boy and received almost as many N.E.W.T.s as you did." He shook his head. "I really wish you had been able to be at school that year. I do think you actually beat the record for the most N.E.W.T.s, and if I know my Hogwarts History well enough, the previous record had been held by… well…"

Draco straightened his throat and lifted an eyebrow when he caught Blaise's gaze. The black man just shrugged. "I will say this much," he continued. "I think the two of you make an outstanding couple and I can't wait to see what you can create together." He smirked as he added, "And I'm not just talking about offspring. Pairing the Gryffindor Princess to the Slytherin Prince… I can't think of a better match. Congratulations to the both of you." He lifted his glass in salute and took a sip from it before sitting down.

Luna did not stand, just sat staring at her drink. Finally, she glanced at Draco curiously. "One day, during my stay here in Malfoy Manor, Draco came into the cellar after Voldemort had left for the day. He wasn't supposed to be there, but he knew Mr. Ollivander and I were hungry, so he brought us a small loaf of bread and a flask of water. He ordered us to eat and drink quickly…" She stared off beyond Draco and the Slytherin knew her attention was no longer focused on him. "It was such a thoughtful thing for a Death Eater to do. So brave, too, when he knew he would be punished if anyone found out." Her eyes fell back to him. "You may not see it, but you are a good man, Draco, and you do deserve to be with Hermione. I didn't get a chance to thank you for that bread and water that day, so… thank you."

Draco gave her a small smile and nod and felt Hermione squeeze his hand. Looking at her, his smile brightened some as food appeared upon their plates.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Finally! Lol! Ok, so this is actually part 1 of the wedding. The reception and honeymoon will be in the next chapter, I just didn't have room for all of it. . Well, looks like Luna forgave Draco.

**SereniteRose:** This whole "responding to reviewers" thing is something new I'm trying. I feel that if you are taking the time to comment on the story, then I should at least give you some sort of acknowledgement. As for Pansy, yeah, I always had issues with her in the books, but I also see her as a sort of "no bullshit" type person. She's straight and brutal and doesn't really care what others think. Same thing with Ginny, though Ginny tends to be... nicer? Though that might be the whole "Slytherin vs Gryffindor" thing. I don't know. But I do appreciate your comments and, please, feel free to comment more. I actually enjoy them. (Just don't be a Pansy about them ^_^ Lol!)

**SmileSimplify:** Ok. Now I want you to promise me something else. Promise me that you'll give me full commentaries from now on, regardless of the length? Like I told Miss Rose, I actually enjoy reading them. I like seeing what people think and knowing whether I'm doing a good job and how much of a good job I'm doing. While I am writing these stories, I also read other stories. In fact, I am an avid reader. I want your input. I may tease with "OMG you guessed it!" but I do want to read it.

**Chester99:** Yeah, see? I'd always thought the idea of a school would be right up Hermione's alley, don't you agree? And I, too, like that she's getting along with Pansy, but part of that is because they were actually kind of forced to share a dorm that year in Hogwarts after the war. Part of why Hermione became friends with Blaise and Theo, too. This whole relationship is brand new for both Draco and Hermione. Just wait until they get to their new house and Hermione wants to figure out how to install a television or telephone. And given how Ron's treated her in the past, Hermione does still have a lot to learn about relationships. As does Mr. Bachelor Slytherin Prince. They're both going to get major wake-up calls.

**Occupational Haz:** I agree with you on pretty much everything you said. I do want to point out, though, that Draco is still terrified that Hermione's going to leave him at that point. Why wouldn't she? She's a Muggle born and he's an ex Death Eater. While he never did actually kill anyone, for one, she doesn't know that, and for two, he assumes that she assumes that he had. Or at least, that he did some despicable things. And who's to say he hasn't? Draco's not squeaky clean, he's just not as bad as most of the wizarding population assume. So, yeah, he's scared. Very scared. I mean, there's a reason he practically banned her from having any contact with Ron. He knows that he took her literally a day, if not less, after Ron broke her heart. As far as he knows, he's a rebound and she's going to want Ron again. He's trying to prevent that from happening.

**LanaLee1:** I'll let you read the response I gave Haz (person above you) for Draco's reasoning for being scared. With any parent, it's hard to let their child go. This can be even more true with parents to a single child. And when you consider that she had tried 4 times before she was finally able to give birth to Draco... I can't even imagine how Narcissa feels. But she also understands the importance of letting go. Besides, she knows they'll be back. There's no way Draco is going to stay away from his parents, especially now that he knows how important it is to learn the family business and finances.


	23. Chapter 23

There was magic in the way Draco took her by the hand and led her onto the ballroom floor. The way he guided her around the floor as she held her skirt up and away from herself to keep from tripping over it. Hermione couldn't help but be reminded of the dance Belle shared with the Beast in that animated cartoon. She opened her mouth to tell Draco about it, but quickly realized he would have no idea what she was talking about.

Laughing, the Muggle born witch threw her head back as he twirled her again. This was their first dance as husband and wife and Hermione found that she couldn't be happier. He wore an amused smile as he led her through the steps. He had no idea what the Gryffindor princess was laughing about, but he enjoyed hearing her laughter all the same.

"Are you happy, my love?" he asked as he pulled her close against him.

She giggled when he kissed her nose and pushed her away again. "I am very happy," she told him. "Tell me. Do you know anything of Muggle entertainment?"

His eyebrows furrowed and he frowned a little. "I can't say I do," he answered honestly. "Though I do know they play this sport… What is it called? Footing the ball?"

She giggled. "Football," she corrected.

"That's it," the wizard said, holding his head up proudly. "It's a bit like Quidditch, yes?"

"Actually…"

They were interrupted by a tap on Draco's shoulder. The Slytherin prince turned his gaze to the man standing behind him. "Mind if I cut in?" Harry asked.

Draco sneered. "Actually, Potter…"

Laughing, Hermione stepped between them before her new husband could finish his words. "I would love to dance with you, Harry," she told her bespectacled friend.

The Pureblood could feel his jaw drop in shock. "Oh, Draco, please close your mouth, darling," his mother said as she took his hand into hers and pulled him to her. "There's no need to fuss."

"But, Mother…"

She lightly popped him on his chest. "Not another word. Now, show Mummy she did not waste Daddy's money on dancing lessons and dance with me."

Frowning, Draco gave his mother a sour face, but did as he was told, guiding her into a quick paced foxtrot. "I'm a married man now, Mother," he said. "And I haven't called either of you those childish names in years."

She pouted, "Yes, but I wish you would." Her pout turned into a smirk identical to Draco's own when he was causing trouble. "At least in secret. Perhaps after your father returns from Azkaban?"

"Again. I'm a married man now," he drawled, though his eyes began to twinkle. He always had a hard time not caving into his mother's demands.

"Be that as it may, darling," she said. "No matter how old you are, you'll always be my little boy. I hope you know that. And one day, when you have children of your own - which I hope will be soon, I might add - you'll feel the same way towards them."

Draco's eyes widened. "Mum!" he hissed. "We just became married. I can't breach the idea of children so soon on her."

It was Narcissa's turn to frown as the older witch huffed. "Why ever not? You do plan to consummate the marriage. There are many times where the bride becomes pregnant on the first try, especially if she is a virgin bride."

"Yes, well, Hermione does want her career and…"

"Her career is to help manage this family," the Pureblood witch hissed. "And part of that is by producing an heir or two. I do hope you will inform her of her duties, darling. Now that she is a Malfoy, they'll be expected of her. Bearing children, hosting parties, and socializing is all part of a Malfoy wife's duty."

Draco raised a single eyebrow. "I know, Mother," he said, "however, she has these ideas of wanting to work in the Ministry, passing laws and fighting for the rights of house elves and whatever other god-forsaken creature."

Narcissa held her head up high and stared into his eyes. "Then you can work for the Ministry and see your wife's dreams turned into reality," she stated haughtily. "It is not her place to meddle in the affairs of wizards. As her husband, that is your job."

He knew he would earn himself another slap on the chest, but Draco really could not help the bark of laughter that escaped his lips at his mother's words. "You try telling her that," he drawled between his laughs. "It would be quite the entertaining sight, especially considering she helped Potter win the war not three years ago. Informing Hermione of her rightful place is tantamount to challenging her into doing just the opposite. While I can help speed up the process of getting her laws passed, I cannot stop her from being involved in them." When his mother made to argue, he lifted his hand to stop her. "Nor would I, Mum. I didn't just marry her for her beauty. Surely you know that? It was never her ambition to become my wife, however I intend to spend the rest of my life making sure that she won't want any alternative. She's the brightest witch of our age and I plan on helping her utilize that brilliant mind of hers because I know she will get her way, always. And as she climbs the ladder of success, I'll be right beside her. The Malfoy name will know greatness once again and it will be in thanks to our own personal first generation witch."

She laughed as the music cued a change of partner. Draco took a step away from his mother and kissed the back of her hand as he gave her a bow. "Thank you for this dance, Mother," he said with a smirk. She laughed as she turned and was met by Blaise Zabini.

Turning himself, Draco saw Potter's girl. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he walked up to her and gave her a bow. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Potter?" he asked.

The Potter girl giggled. "No need to be so formal, Malfoy," she said as she gave a small curtsy of acceptance.

As they made their way around the dance floor, he smiled at her. "I want to thank you," he said, breaking the ice.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"You could have talked her out of dating me," he admitted. "You could have taken a more active role and truly come between us, but you didn't."

"Why would I?" she asked. "Honestly, Malfoy, even if I wanted to, she wouldn't have listened. And who says I didn't try? Ever since Ron broke up with her, Hermione has been wearing this blinders. You were there and she latched onto you like a little lost puppy." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't know what you've said to her or done with her. All I know is one minute she mentioned you in passing and the next, she's going over wedding plans. Half of this I'm still processing. Before I know it, you two will probably be picking out baby names."

He chuckled and shook his head. "We have a lot of work to do before we can have a child."

"You think?" She huffed. "Didn't you despise her a month ago?"

He shook his head again. "I don't know that I ever really hated her. I was jealous, of course, when she beat me in every subject, but I never hated her. During our fourth year, I accepted my feelings for her, but there wasn't really much I could do, was there?"

"There wasn't?" she rolled her eyes. "You could have switched sides, Malfoy. You could have helped us in the war."

"And what? Lose my parents?" he bit back. "The Dark Lord was back. If I had turned on him, he would have taken it out on them."

She tilted her head as she looked up at him. "Isn't that what he did anyway?"

He started to shake his head, but then thought better of it. "I will admit, all three of us went through a lot," he said. "However, in the end, I have both of my parents. If I had turned, he would have killed them. Then he would have gone after me." His eyes met hers. "I'm not proud of what I've done. Nor am I proud of what my parents have done. Father made a grave mistake when he took up the Mark and the three of us nearly paid for that mistake with our lives."

"And now your father is serving a sentence in Azkaban," she pointed out.

He shrugged as he turned her. "Not for long," he surmised. "He'll be out any day now. He made a deal with the Minister and will be helping the Aurors locate Death Eaters."

"Yes, I know," she said a bit distastefully. "Though from what Harry told me, he'll spend most of his time under house arrest and he won't be allowed to have a wand."

Draco frowned. He didn't know all of this. "For how long?" he asked, curiously.

"For the remainder of his actual sentence," she explained. "I thought Hermione told you this? Harry told her about a few days ago."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "No, she didn't."

(II)(II)

Hermione grimaced as Harry stepped on her toe again. "Really, Harry," she teased, "you would think Ginny would have insisted on you taking a few dancing lessons upon marrying her."

"Sorry," he quickly apologized and then he smiled. "She did," he told her, "and it was discovered that I have two left feet."

The witch rolled her eyes, but laughed. "You are hopeless. Remind me later and I'll teach you," she promised.

"What? And lose my reputation of being a horrid dancer? I think not," the Half-blood stated, causing Hermione to giggle.

A tap on Harry's shoulder brought their dance to a close as they turned to see Theodore Nott standing there. "May I?" the Slytherin asked, holding out his hand.

Harry was hesitant, but Hermione did not falter as she reached to take Theo's hand and allowed him to pull her into another dance. "Are you ready for this, Granger?" the Pureblood asked once they were out of earshot of Harry.

The witch smiled. "Malfoy," she corrected, giggling.

"Right. Malfoy," he amended, his own smile growing wider. "Question still stands," he said. "I know from personal experience how difficult Draco can be at times, especially when he doesn't get his way. Love the bloke like a brother, but he is quite spoiled."

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she continued to giggle. "Yes, I know. Trust me. Merlin knows I have been on the receiving end of his wrath more than once," she joked.

Both of Theo's eyes lifted at that. "You have?" he asked, then he realized what she was talking about and quickly shook his head. "No, no, princess," he argued. "All those years in Hogwarts was foreplay. You'll see, believe me. Draco is trying to change, I'll give him that. And in many ways he already has. But he does have quite the temper and it can be extremely hysterical, if you try not to take his tantrums too seriously. My advice, princess, don't rise to the bait. He loves having an arguing buddy, but if it's someone he loves, he'll feel a tremendous amount of guilt later."

"Draco feels guilt?" she teased, her smile widening and flashing her teeth.

The Slytherin raised a single eyebrow at that. "You doubt me?" he asked, suddenly serious.

Her smile faltered as she shook her head. "No," she told him. "The more I learn about Draco the more I realize he is not all he seems." She gazed off into the distance as he led her through the dance. Her eyes crinkled in the corners as she thought. Then, aloud, she said, "I remember the first time I saw him." She glanced up at Theo. "Did I tell you that? It was on the train and I was helping Neville look for his toad. I opened the compartment door and there he was. Of course you and Blaise were with him, but he was the only one I really saw."

Theodore smirked. "I have this unnecessary desire to be offended," he joked.

She shared his smirk as she glanced up at him. "I remember the first words he said to me, too. 'Who are you?'" She giggled. "At the time, I was really wanting to find that toad, but Draco had left me momentarily speechless."

He nodded. "Yes, I remember. You stood there looking like you were trying to imitate a fish," he commented with a wink.

She dipped her head as she giggled and could feel her cheeks warm up. "Yes, well, I do believe I was quite taken. So much so that I completely missed the sneer or the way he had asked his question. But I told him my name and what I was doing there," she said. Sighing, she continued, "The moment had been brief, I know, but like with any crush, it was enough. The coming months, it was easy to ignore the way he spoke to people and insulted them. I knew he was wealthy and an only child, so it made sense, in a way. And I did notice him in the library on more than one occasion doing homework."

"Are you telling me you've liked Draco this entire time?" the Slytherin asked, looking at her curiously.

The witch giggled and shook her head. "Later that year, the more I spent time with Harry, I realized how nasty Draco was. I grew irritated with the way he treated my friends, so I stamped down that crush. It didn't take much to completely ignore it for years, especially when Hagrid informed me of the meaning of the word 'Mudblood'. It wasn't until the Yule Ball that those feelings resurfaced, but by then I knew it would never do. Crushing on Draco Malfoy could only lead to heartbreak because, let's face it. I'm a Muggle born and a Gryffindor. Nevermind that his father was a known, or at least suspected, Death Eater and the entire family lived on the mantra that Muggles were evil and beneath them."

"Some of us still believe that," said a masculine voice, causing Theodore and Hermione to glance around to the source.

To Hermione's great surprise, Lucius stood there in black dress robes. In fact, there wasn't a spec of colour on him aside from black. His long blond hair was impeccable and cascaded off his shoulders. For a moment, the witch's mind was sent to the past and the first time she had seen him. If she didn't know he had been spending all this time in Azkaban, she would have thought he had never been there at all.

"Lucius," she breathed.

The older wizard raised an eyebrow. "What happened to 'Father'? Or is that only something used when I am completely vulnerable?"

The Gryffindor shook her head rapidly, snapping herself out of her shock of seeing him. "What are you doing here?" she asked. She could feel Theodore's hand at her waist still, but she ignored it.

"I'm attending my only son's wedding," the patriarch stated simply. "Surely you didn't think I would miss that, my dear?.. You did." He gave a smirk that reminded Hermione completely of Draco. "How presumptuous."

The Muggle born frowned. "Does the rest of the family know you're here?" she asked, staring at him.

Lucius did not look away from her. His eyes bore into hers and she swore he was looking right into her very soul. She felt a chill creep up her spine as, not looking away from her, he said, "I'll be dancing with her now, Mr. Nott. As her father-in-law, it is my duty."

She felt the warmth and comfort of Theodore slip away and she took a step back as Lucius took his place. To her surprise, the Pureblood wizard's hands were just as warm as Theo's had been. As they glided around the room, she knew she was dancing with the devil.

"Are you enjoying your little party, my dear?" he finally asked, breaking the ice.

She pinched her lips as she thought for a moment. Then, with a forced smile, she answered, "I am. After all these years, I am now married to a man I never thought in my wildest dreams I would ever marry."

"Well, it's not like you deserve him," he stated, "but times being what they are, I can understand why he would think you would be right for him. Being married to a princess will serve him well, indeed."

Hermione could feel the tick in her jaw as she clenched her teeth. She started to answer, but he cut her off, "I must congratulate you, my dear. I have often hear the phrase 'brightest witch of her age' in reference to you, and, while I'm loathed to admit it, it seems to be true. Convincing Draco to take the Unbreakable Vow was quite ingenious. You must have assumed I would attempt to sabotage your wedding, but you needn't worry. I have no desire of dirtying my dick in such a way."

To say the young Gryffindor was incredibly insulted was an understatement. To say she was disgusted was even more of an understatement. She attempted to pull away from him, but the wizard held her fast.

"Don't worry, my dear," he told her. "No one can hear us. As far as they are concerned, we are merely dancing. Maybe even laughing."

"How?" she demanded.

He gave her a slight nod. "Years ago, Severus taught me this wonderful little spell he had invented, _Muffliato_. I'll admit it had always required a wand upon one's person, however, I was able to tweak it a bit to make it wandless." He wore a smile that Hermione knew others would take as pleasant, but she saw through the mask.

She took a deep breath. "The Unbreakable Vow wasn't my idea," she told him truthfully. "Your wife and son had insisted on it. They both told me it was an old Malfoy tradition and, indeed, Draco even showed me proof in an old tome of Malfoy traditions."

"Well, they didn't lie," he confessed as he watched her. If she didn't know better, she would think he was suddenly enjoying himself. "However, no one has participated in an Unbreakable marriage for two hundred years. The last Unbreakable marriage was, in fact, performed for Septimus Malfoy in the late 18th century. The only reason he had wanted it was to ensure his new, second wife would bare him a true Malfoy heir. See, the wife before had become pregnant by some filthy little Muggle. Their deaths had been so tragic. Septimus had been so heartbroken and wanted to make sure his next child was truly his."

"I'm sure he was," she said sarcastically. "If you're trying to scare me, Lucius, you'll have to try harder than that."

He chuckled as he pulled her closer to him. "No, my dear. I would never presume to terrify you. However, you are quite lucky to have agreed to the Unbreakable Vow."

"Do you honestly believe you would be able to put an end to this marriage? Draco genuinely loves me. He wouldn't turn his back on me like that."

"Oh, of that I have little doubt," he told her. "He truly believes he was able to convince his mother to like you. In fact, this entire operation, from kissing you in your fourth year to turning Mr. Weasley against you, he believes he did it all in such a way to undermine me entirely. He believes that he has managed to get away with marrying a Mudblood, in particular, the little Mudblood he's fancied for years."

Hermione ignored the insulting word, after all, there were more important things in his words to focus on. "You knew. This entire time and… you knew."

The older wizard scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, my dear, I raised the boy. I wager I have spent more time with him than even his mother. Merlin knows she never changed his nappies. Of course, that is not meant to downplay her devotion to her son. I do believe Narcissa loves Draco even more than she loves me. However, she does not know him nearly as well as I do," he told the young woman. "That being said, I pay attention. The week after he met you, I believe, he owled me a letter telling me of his first week of school. He spoke so highly of you. Though he had regretted the House you ended up in, he was quite smitten."

"He told you that?" she asked in surprise.

"Heavens, no," he laughed. "However, as I've said, I know my son. I was able to read between the lines of his insults well enough to see that you were his chosen. As I've told you before, I began doing my research on your family as I watched my own son grow more and more infatuated with you. I tried to stamp it out, even going so far as recommending other, more Pureblooded witches to him. I believe it was around his fourth year at Hogwarts when I began meeting with Mr. Greengrass. But I suppose all of this is moot now, don't you agree, my dear? All of my efforts were for naught as, not only did he marry you, he convinced you to make an Unbreakable Vow."

It was hard for her to read the emotion on his face as he continued, "You both did. There literally isn't anything I can do now. If I move against you, I run the risk of losing my son in a more permanent way. The game was well-played, I must say, though if you truly thought the Vow was a Malfoy tradition, then I suppose the players I should be congratulating are my own wife and son. However, now we are at a crossroads, you and I. We can continue playing the roles of Death Eater and Mudblood and continue to hate one another with great passion and fire. Or, we can be respectable Malfoys and play as though I am a father-in-law welcoming my new daughter into my family with open arms and you are grateful to be accepted," he told her. "Honestly, I believe the latter is the best way to go, at least as far as the public is concerned."

Her eyes narrowed. "What will you get out of it?"

He smirked. "Since we've started dancing, my dear, a certain blond haired Pureblood witch has been watching us. I've heard that she is the head editor of the Quibbler and it so happens we are acquainted," he said. His eyes narrowed as he brought their dance to an end and stared at Hermione. "I know she is a friend of yours. What do you think she'll say in her paper tomorrow after seeing us together and witnessing how accepting, and even pleased, I am of you and Draco being married?"

"Probably that she saw Nargles surrounding your head," Hermione deadpanned without hesitation.

This caught Lucius off guard and Hermione had to stifle her giggle at the look on his face. "What?" he asked.

The Muggle born witch pressed a couple of fingers over her lips to hide her giggle and shook her head. "Luna is a wonderful friend," she stated. "You've read her article about Draco and my engagement. She thinks the world of Draco and seeing his father accepting me no doubt thrills her." More seriously, she pressed, "She was a prisoner here, you know."

"I do," he confirmed. "I remember bringing her food a time or two during her stay, though I never lingered." He turned his head slightly away and scoffed. "That reminds me. I need to speak to the house elves about cleaning that cellar."

"I wouldn't bother," the young woman said. "Knowing how meticulous Narcissa is, I haven't a doubt she's already taken care of it."

He glanced at her for a moment. "She - ."

"Father?" Draco called in disbelief.

The older wizard turned to see his wife and son walking quickly towards him. Hermione broke away from him as Narcissa practically fell into his arms. Draco drew up next to Hermione and glanced at her, his eyes quickly scanning her to make sure she was alright, before turning back to his parents.

The music in the room had stopped and people were drawing their attention to the small family. Draco quietly slipped a hand around Hermione's waist and the young witch leaned into him.

Lucius and Narcissa stood there for a long time, just hugging one another. Finally, he pulled away just enough so he could look into her eyes and cup her cheek. When he pressed his lips against hers in a tender kiss, the sound of a camera click echoed through the room.

Hermione looked for the sound and her eyes rested upon Luna and her friend. The young cameraman snapped another shot as Lucius pulled his wife closer to him to deepen his kiss. The newest Malfoy glanced up at her own husband and he threw her a smirk. Turning his head, he whispered into her ear, "It's a publicity stunt, love. Father does love Mother, however they never partake in making public displays of affection."

The Gryffindor frowned at this. She watched the couple as they finally broke apart, whispering things to each other, but Hermione didn't catch any of what they said. Luna and Ginny moved to stand next to Draco and Hermione.

"Draco, do you think your father would give me a few words for the Quibbler?" Luna asked, her eyes glued to the man in question.

Draco's eyebrows disappeared under his hairline as he stared at the girl. "You're not afraid of him?" he questioned.

"Hm?" Luna hummed, then as though realizing what he had said, she shrugged, "Oh, I'm petrified, but he did just dance with Hermione, didn't he? Not to mention he often would bring me food, much like you did, during my stay here in the Manor." She said these things matter-of-factly and Hermione shared an amused look with Ginny.

"I'm surprised he gave you the time," Ginny confessed before turning a glare onto a rather curious Lucius Malfoy. "He's not really known to give much thought to other people's children."

For his part, Lucius looked confused as his eyebrows knitted together. Narcissa looked livid, though she held her cool and spoke softly, "You want to watch what you say about my husband, Mrs. Potter."

Recognition seemed to dawn on Lucius and his eyes widened. "You're the little Weasley girl," he acknowledged as the other Weasleys and Harry moved to stand behind her. "Ah, yes, I remember you now. I had read you married Mr. Potter. I'm sure your parents are rather proud that at least one of their children managed to move above their class."

"How dare you!" the ginger haired girl hissed. "You could only ever dream of being even half the man my father is! You're nothing but a bigoted, evil Death Eater and you should be thrown back in Azkaban where you belong."

Lucius's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, but Draco cut him off as he rounded on the Pureblood witch. "Don't you ever talk to my father like that again, you nasty little guttersnipe," he snarled.

"Stop it!" Hermione shouted, looking angry and appalled, but Draco and Ginny ignored her.

"Guttersnipe? Is that the best you can come up with, Malfoy?" Ginny barked maliciously. "I grew up with six older brothers, you self-righteous git. You'll have to do better than that."

He stepped up to her so he could tower the young Gryffindor and looked down at her. "How about the fact that the only reason you're here is because of Hermione? You honestly think I would let filth like you grace these halls otherwise?"

"As if I would even want to be here otherwise," she snapped. "If it weren't for Hermione…"

"Would you two stop it?!" the Muggle born shouted as she forced herself between them.

"Hermione, stay out of this," Draco warned.

"No!" she screeched as she pushed him back. "You don't talk to my friends like that, Draco Malfoy! Ginny has been nothing but gracious and accepting since you and I started dating, regardless of her own personal feelings. The least you could do is give her that same respect." She then turned to the ginger, "And you! We've talked about this. This is Lucius's home and he has a right to be here. You knew he was getting out of prison and he has just as much right to be here as anyone, even more so. Furthermore, you know he did not know what that diary would do."

"Hermione, regardless, he still put a child's life in danger," Arthur argued, stepping up to defend his daughter. "He was looking to ruin me, which even you can't deny that was his plan, and, instead, nearly took my daughter away from me."

Confounded, Lucius spoke up, "What are you talking about?"

"The diary you slipped in Ginny's cauldron a few years ago," Harry answered. "Don't you remember, Mr. Malfoy? I tried to return it to you, but you gave it to Dobby."

The memory slammed to the forefront of Lucius's mind and his frown deepened. "I remember," he admitted. "I hadn't realized how far that diary would go. I knew it once belonged to the Dark Lord, however, I did not think it would actually harm anyone."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're either a liar, an idiot, or incredibly naïve. Since I doubt you're either of the latter, I will assume you're lying. Since when have you ever known Voldemort to keep anything that wasn't dangerous?"

"If I had even an inkling that she would have been in real danger, do you honestly believe I would have done it? If anything, I had expected Dumbledore or a teacher to find it long before any real damage occurred," the Malfoy patron explained.

Arthur lunged at him, but Harry grabbed the older man and pulled him back. "He isn't worth it, Arthur," the bespectacled man stated. He looked at his best friend. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but I think it's best that we leave. I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into." He pointed an accusing finger at Draco as he said, "That… You heard what he called my wife. If you think he's going to change, truly change… I hope for your sake he does, but I wouldn't hold my breath." He grabbed his wife's hand and glanced at the other Weasleys. "Let's go."

The only ones who did not glare at Draco were Molly and Angelina. Molly just gave him a pitying glance, looking heartbroken, before turning away from him. Angelina simply sighed and shook her head, looking disappointed.

The moment the Weasley's left, Hermione rounded on her new husband. "How could you?" she spat. "You knew how important this day was. You knew…"

Draco pushed past her and growled at the crowd, "What are you all staring at? The party's over. Now, get your cloaks and get the fuck out of here."

"Draco!" the Muggle born reprimanded. "You can't…"

He turned to her. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do in my own house, Hermione!" he snarled. "This is my house! Your little friend insulted my father under my roof, which, in case you had your head too far up her arse to notice, _he _hadn't even said anything to her, so don't you dare assume you can tell me what to do!" He caught Nott's look of warning, but ignored it as he continued, "If they can't be respectful and fucking civilized, then I don't want them in this Manor, or in the house we'll be moving to. My father deserves to be relaxed in his own home and doesn't need that kind of stress."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You can't keep me from my friends," she told him.

"Malfoy," Theodore said, moving towards his friends.

Draco turned his attention to the dark haired man. Red faced, he growled, "What the bloody hell are you still doing here? I told you to get out! Now GO!"

"Draco, don't take this out on Theo," the young Gryffindor chastised. "None of this is his fault."

Up to this point, Narcissa had remained quiet. Like Draco, she was livid with the events that had unfolded in her own home. However, years of careful breeding and training kept the Pureblood witch from saying anything. Standing up straight, however, she spoke up in a calm voice, "Hermione is right. You're acting like a five-year-old."

"You heard what that pauper said to Father!" he shouted as he stared at his mother with wide eyes.

"Draco, do not raise your voice to your mother," Lucius ordered. He looked at the remaining guests, though there weren't many. He refrained from rolling his eyes at seeing a few of the Hogwarts teachers and allowed his eyes to rest on Blaise Zabini. "I do, however, agree with Draco. The party is over now, so you may give the newly married couple your final well wishes as you exit the door. There is an Apparation point near the front gate."

Hermione felt the tears fill her eyes, but she refused to shed them as, one by one, people started to leave. Those she considered friends gave her sympathetic looks and McGonagall even hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.

"I look forward to hearing about your plans for this new school, Mrs. Malfoy," the headmistress stated as she gave Hermione a soft smile.

Not trusting her voice, the young Gryffindor just returned the smile and nodded. She actually barked a laugh when Hagrid gave her one of his bear hugs, engulfing her in his moleskin coat. She had to crouch down to give Professor Flitwick a hug, but she did it without hesitation.

When Luna approached her, she gave the girl a long hug and whispered in the Ravenclaw's ear, "Please don't write about this last bit. Even if you mention it, you know Skeeter will start snooping around and write ridiculous lies."

Luna nodded and pulled away. "I won't," she promised. "But, if you don't mind, I would like to mention that lovely dance you had with your father-in-law. My friend took some amazing photos of it."

Hermione's smile was genuine, if a bit watery. "That will be fine," she responded.

Blaise and Padma gave her comforting hugs and wished her a fun and loving honeymoon. Thanking them, the Muggle born witch turned her attention to Pansy and Millicent. The latter witch showed no sympathy, but still gave a genuine congratulations. Pansy, however, gave Hermione a warning look and actually hugged her.

"Don't let him bring you down. This is a tantrum, nothing more," the Pureblood whispered to the Muggle born.

Hermione nodded and turned her attention to Neville and Hannah and, finally, to Theodore. He had a sour look on his face, but he hugged the Gryffindor witch and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations again, Hermione," he said. "Floo me as soon as you return."

She smiled and gave him a nod. "I will."

Once all the guests were gone, Lucius dropped his mask and glared at his son. "What the bloody hell do you think you were doing? It was bad enough that blood traitor insulted me and then you go and embarrass the whole family? You're lucky Hermione had enough sense about her to ask Miss Lovegood not to mention that fiasco in her bloody paper. Do you have any idea what you could have done?"

"That pathetic little pauper didn't just insult you once, but she kept on. Lovegood wasn't even talking to her! She's always putting in her two Knuts and I'm sick of it," Draco yelled.

"Ginny is my friend," Hermione snapped. "And she's concerned about me."

"That was not out of concern for you, Hermione," the wizard spat.

She shook her head. "No, you're right. Your father nearly killed her during the whole Chamber of Secrets disaster. She has every right to still be upset over that."

"Hermione, that happened seven years ago," he argued. "She survived, she's fine. Father didn't even know it would work out the way it had."

"Would you two stop talking about me as though I'm not here?" Lucius drawled as he sat in one of the many chairs that lined the dance floor. "Now, Hermione, my dear, if it will help ease the tension between us, I will send Mrs. Potter a formal apology for endangering her life, however, she was out of line tonight."

Hermione sighed as she leaned against a table. "Yes, I know. I've spoken to her about it, consistently, and she promised me that she wouldn't bring it up when she saw you again," she said as she peeled off her gloves.

"The Weasleys have always been a rather uncouth lot," Lucius commented. He snapped his fingers and called, "Horus!" He continued his speech as though he hadn't said the name, "I remember Arthur and Molly in school. I hate to admit it, but Arthur wasn't nearly as outspoken as his wife. Of course, I wasn't really around them much. In fact, I avoided them most of the time, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. They were both Prefects my first year, though neither of them made Heads."

A small house elf stood there beside Lucius, staring up at him with complete admiration. He wore a clean towel and had large brown eyes. "Master Lucius is home!" he squealed.

To Hermione's surprise, the older wizard actually gave the elf a smile. "Yes, Horus, I am. Now, if you would be so kind, fetch some tea to the drawing room, and perhaps a decanter of my firewhiskey."

The younger witch felt her heart jump into her throat at his words. "The drawing room?"

Lucius glanced at the girl curiously. "Is there something wrong, my dear?" he asked.

Hermione looked hesitantly at Draco. She was still mad at him, but at the moment, her fears clouded that anger. "I…"

Draco sighed. "The drawing room was where Aunt Bella tortured her, Father," he explained.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I've been tortured there as well," he admitted, his eyes shifting to his son and then back to the girl. "And on more than one occasion by the Dark Lord himself. The room is nothing to fear, dear girl. If anything, it's probably one of the best rooms in the entire Manor."

Narcissa placed a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Do you remember when we used to play duets, darling? You would play the piano so beautifully," she commented. She glanced at the Muggle born and added, "Music is its own form of magic.

"Dumbledore said that once," Hermione said. "Or, at least, something similar." She had quietly gravitated towards Draco, though she didn't realize it.

He looked at her angrily. "Of course you would remember something someone said years ago, especially if it's from your precious Dumbledore."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "Dumbledore was a great man. He did a lot for the Wizarding World and for us."

Lucius groaned as he stood up. "I think I'm going to be sick," he told his wife. He glanced at Hermione. "Dumbledore had a lot of problems, my dear. Even if you bypass the fact that his father murdered three Muggles or that he had actually teamed up with Grindelwald to do the very thing the Dark Lord was attempting to do just recently, he spent years conditioning your friend to do what he wanted."

"He did no such thing! He protected Harry!" she argued.

"He sent a child to fight battles no child should even be aware of," the Pureblood drawled.

"Only because your Dark Lord was trying to kill him!" she spat. "He had to prepare Harry to face a man who wanted his death. Harry never wanted to be hunted by a man who wanted to take his life! His parents died trying to keep him safe," she raged on. "Sirius, Remus, and yes, _Severus Snape_ died to keep him safe. He never asked them to. All Harry ever wanted was to be an ordinary, regular boy. To go to school and learn life skills without the threat of being murdered in his sleep. If Dumbledore hadn't guided him or trained him, Harry would have died. If Voldemort hadn't gone off his bloody rocker, trying to kill an innocent child, don't you see they all would still be alive?!"

"Doubtful," Lucius scoffed. "His plan was to eradicate all Muggle borns and bring Muggles under the heels of Purebloods, where they belong."

"His plan was to murder Harry and gain immortality!" the young witch barked. At Lucius's raised eyebrows, Hermione's eyes narrowed and she lowered her voice to just above a whisper as she hissed, "Did he forget to tell you that? Tom Riddle cared about one person and one person only. He didn't give a damn about his Death Eaters, a fact that he made blatantly clear when he made one of his closer fighters into a wandless servant and killed the man he trusted the most over a fucking wand. A wand, I might add, that didn't even belong to Snape to begin with! Did you know the whole time, the wand actually belonged to Draco and if Voldemort had figured that out, he would have killed your only son right on the spot! You think he cared about blood purity? That despot was a fucking Half-blood bastard who had been raised in a _Muggle_ orphanage. Did you know his Pureblooded mother actually cast a love spell on his Muggle father because she was in love with him and was so ugly and _poor_ he wouldn't even spit in her direction.

"Yes, Dumbledore's father was sentenced to Azkaban after killing three Muggle children who had teased his daughter and permanently harmed her. Yes, Dumbledore made the mistake of becoming Grindelwald's friend and even siding with him on several issues. But the moment he realized his mistake, he worked to make sure Grindelwald was sent to prison for the rest of his life. Even after that, he spent his entire life to fight against prejudice and injustice. He did what he could to protect Harry and make sure Harry had the tools he needed to defeat the most evil wizard in all history. And, yes, Harry was a child, but Voldemort made it his life's mission to murder that innocent child. That child whose parents died to protect. That child who could have easily been Draco upon the battlements of Hogwarts that hellish night" As she spoke, her voice grew gradually louder as she glared at Lucius hard and when she finished, she stood before him, her mouth slightly agape as she panted, catching her breath. She didn't know when she had clenched her fists or dug them into her sides.

Silence echoed through the room as the three Pureblooded Malfoys stared at her. Their faces revealed nothing of their inner thoughts, though Hermione could see surprise in Lucius's features and fear in Narcissa's eyes. Draco, from what Hermione could see, showed no emotion and she wondered why that was.

For his part, Draco's eyes were narrowed as he tried to stare into Hermione's eyes. He wanted so badly to know what she was thinking. A huge part of him wanted to strangle her. "You didn't tell me my father would be under house arrest for the next 20 years or that he would be forced to remain wandless," he said after a while, still staring at her.

Hermione raised a single eyebrow. "Really? And you told me that the Unbreakable Vow was a Malfoy tradition, that even your parents had taken it on their wedding day," she bit back. "Given that the Minister didn't want to release your father to even begin with, I think he's gotten a more than fair deal. He cannot leave the grounds of the estate, which means that he can still oversee all of his investments and even teach you all you need to know to eventually take over." She leaned back on her heels and folded her arms across her chest.

Draco met her stare, still trying to see into her mind. After another moment, he said, "How do you expect him to free your parents when he can't even leave the property?"

"That's simple enough, Son," the older wizard answered for her. He hadn't taken his eyes off of the young woman since she started her rant. "We can send them a package, one that Hermione puts together, informing them that they won a contest of some sort for a romantic getaway to Wiltshire, England. They'll stay in a massive Manor where there will be horse drawn carriages and be able to traverse beautiful gardens, sample delicate wines, and dine on some of the most exquisite cuisine in all of England. Perhaps they'll even get the chance to go horseback riding through English countryside," he mused. Tilting his head to the side curiously, he asked, "They do enjoy horseback riding, don't they, my dear?"

Hermione nodded as she commented, "But I doubt they'll buy the idea that they won a contest they never entered."

He waved a lazy hand her way as though quickly dismissing the words. "I'm sure your clever mind can come up with something, my dear. A random contest based on addresses or birthdays or whatever. My point is, it should be simple enough to convince them to come here," he stated. He finally took his eyes off of her as he glanced about the room. "I intend to have the elves renovate the Manor. By the time your parents get here, it will be far livelier." He glanced at Draco. "How are my birds?"

"Alive," the younger wizard answered. "As are most of the other animals. Thankfully, the Dark Lord and his followers did not destroy our home entirely. Icicle was eaten by Greyback, however, and we had to put down one of the Abraxans, but…"

To Hermione's surprise, Lucius actually looked grief-stricken as Draco spoke of the obviously precious pets. "Which one?" the older man asked in a strained voice.

Draco glanced at his mother with a worried look on his face and turned back to his father. "Starlight," he said. He saw the look on the old man's face and immediately tried to ease the blow. "She died peacefully. You know she was old and then she became sick and nothing we did made her any better. If anything, it made her worse."

The angry Hermione had felt moments before dwindled as she watched the patriarch take a deep breath and look away. With a sudden desire to allow him his dignity, Hermione glanced at Draco as the older man rubbed his eyes with one hand. The young Gryffindor knew how ruthless and cruel Lucius Malfoy could be. She had seen it. But in this moment, she realized that he was really just a flawed, broken human being just like herself and his wife and son.

She didn't know why the heavens had decided to bring her and Draco together. She was still struggling with her own emotions and feelings of guilt. She mourned the loss of her parents and all those people who had died in the war. Her eyes filled with tears as they fell to Draco's chest, unseeing, though she did not shed them.

Lucius took another deep breath and sat up straight. "Yes, well. Such is life," he commented. He almost sounded callous, but as Hermione glanced at him, she could see quite clearly that he was more affected by the losses than he led on. "It's getting late and the two of you have a honeymoon to get to, if I'm not mistaken."

Draco nodded, knowing that was his cue to leave. Turning to his new wife, he reached out his hand for her. She stared at the hand for a moment, then gathering her Gryffindor courage, she accepted his hand.

"Just so you know, love," he explained as he drew her close. "Only Malfoys can Apparate and Disapparate between properties."

Her eyes widened and she gave a nervous smile as he pulled out his wand and Apparated them to an immense chalet in France.

* * *

**Author's Note:** What? Is that another chapter? Wow. Lots of pretty intense things happening here, huh? Hope y'all enjoyed it! Like I stated in my one shot "Last Christmas", I set up a Pinterest account under the advice of SmileSimplify. (Thanks!) You can look me up by searching for tassanab. I finally taught myself how to make banners and such. (Like my new picture for this story? I made that myself :) ) I posted the banner for this story on Pinterest as well. Also, you can see the dresses that inspired me for Hermione's gown and even the accessories.

**Chester99:** Ginny angers me a bit in this story as well, but we have to remember that it is only 2, maybe 3 years after the war, so a lot of her wounds are still pretty fresh. This whole story is about forgiveness and how some people are better at forgiving than others and how some are more easily to forgive than others. It takes time and she still as a lot of animosity towards the Malfoys, much of which has been taught to her from her family and some from her own personal experience. If she does forgive Draco, or even Lucius, it won't be as quickly as Hermione has.

**Occupational Haz:** Well, almost without a hitch. ;) And Draco will have to be completely honest with her. It will certainly be interesting to see how he struggles with it, but at least Hermione will begin to trust him more. Harry and Ginny will give Draco a chance (though it may not seem like it after this chapter), but they will be blunt with him and call him out on his bullshit. As for Hermione's influence and Lucius's favors, this is one of the many reasons she pressed him so hard about getting a place of their own. She knows he's going to spend a lot of time with his father, but at least this way, it won't be as much as it would have been if they had decided to stay at the Manor.

**SereniteRose**: You are very welcomed. The Pansy comment had been meant as a joke. I don't believe any of my viewers would be cruel.

**SmileSimplify:** Yeah, I knew all of that, however, my brain wasn't working entirely right, and at that moment, I couldn't get my thoughts out on the computer the way I wanted, so I just went with it. And what I'm reading about Narcissa is that Hermione will have a lot to learn from her. J.K. Rowling stated that Harry and Draco never did become friends. They learned to be more civil around one another, but they were never mates. It's an understandable dislike (at least I understand it) that I really wanted to show here. Harry's accepting the marriage. Doesn't mean he has to like it.

Thank you all for your reviews! I am working on the next chapter. (ooo... honeymoon in paradise. :D *Giggles*) I am finished with my finals for the semester. (Two A's and a C. Yay me! [Film Appreciation, World Lit, and History])


	24. Chapter 24

They had Apparated right in the middle of a luscious bedroom. Hermione closed her eyes and held her stomach as Draco steadied her. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

She nodded her head, but didn't trust herself to speak right away. Taking several deep breaths, she righted herself and opened her eyes. Her eyes widened as she gazed about the room. It wasn't anything like she had expected. The dark, gloomy décor from the Manor was non-existent in this bright, pastel room. A large white four poster bed sat between two large bay windows. Hermione could see the sky blue sheets of the bed peeking out from under several large, fluffy pillows. The white duvet that covered the bed had large sky blue flowers trailing down the left side and curling upwards towards the right, almost like a large "J". This pattern was duplicated on several of the white pillows while a few of the pillows were sky blue as well.

On either side of the bed, the bay windows had translucent curtains that were pulled back to give a clear view of the ocean. Gasping, the Muggle born touched her fingers to her lips, unaware that she was stepping out of Draco's arms to look more fully around the room. The bedroom was quite spacious, which did not surprise Hermione in the slightest. On the wall to the left of the bed sat the luxurious white marble fireplace surrounded by identical white armchairs. Each chair had a single pillow resting against the back. The pillows had the same blue flower pattern as the bed.

Taking a slow step, Hermione turned to look at the rest of the room. Next to the fireplace was a large bookshelf filled with books and her hands began to itch with the desire to touch them, but she restrained herself, if only for a moment longer. Continuing, she saw a door across from the bed that was opened and clearly led to the rest of the house. Opposite the fireplace wall were two more doors. Instinctively, Hermione knew these led to the bathroom and closet.

She glanced at Draco and asked, hopefully, "May I?" waving her hand to indicate the doors.

He gave her a warm smile and nodded. "Of course, love. Ma maison est ta maison"

She giggled and responded, "Merci!" She then lifted up her skirts and walked towards the first door. "If you don't mind, mon amour, I think I might change out of this dress."

"It's a bit late to go anywhere," he said, though he was amused by her use of the French language. "I thought tomorrow we would go and see the sights. Paris is but two Apparations away and Normandy is less than an hour away by carriage, shorter if we take a car."

Her hand was on the handle of the door when her head whipped around to stare at him. "Do you know how to drive?" she asked.

His face widened into a smirk as he folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not without skill, love," he commented with a short chuckle. "After Father was incarcerated, Mother insisted. You'll have to remind me to show you the Malfoy garage some time. I own a car or two…"

The idea of the Malfoys owning anything Muggle floored the witch. "Any other dirty little secrets I should know about?" she teased.

"Perhaps," he responded, his smirk still plastered on his face, "but those are things you'll learn of in time, beautiful."

"Of that, I do not doubt," she laughed. Turning the knob of the door, she continued, "You said we were near Normandy. Do you think we could visit… the…" She lost her words as she turned and looked around the new room she had entered.

She remembered visiting the Prefects bath a few times in Hogwarts. This was nothing in comparison. White porcelain and marble tile covered virtually everything. The tub wasn't a tub, but a swimming pool in the shape of a large seashell. Several faucets lined the pool. There was a shower in the far corner, but no sign of a shower curtain or even lip. She saw the drain underneath the shower and assumed it was expected that the water would stay there.

In all her years, Hermione had never seen a marble toilet, but, alas, there it was standing proudly next to the marble sink. The toothbrush holder, soap dish, wastebasket, and tissue holder were actually of a black marble. A plush, white towel hung meticulously from a marble bar mounted on the wall. The vanity, which sat next to the sink, had an oval mirror, a silver tray full of perfumes and a silver brush along with a makeup caddy. Upon opening the small drawers, Hermione discovered that it was fully stocked with all the cosmetics she used, including a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.

Bending down, she turned on the first valve for the pool. As hot, pink bubbled water sprouted from the faucet, she smiled. Going to each nozzle, she soon had them all turned on, filling the room with fragrant scents and bubbles. Standing up, she reached behind herself and began working on the string. She tugged and pulled, but she couldn't get it undone.

Frustrated, Hermione returned to the bedroom and found Draco lounging in one of the chairs reading a book. "Draco? Could you help me?"

"What is it, love?" he asked as he glanced up.

She approached him and turned around so he could see the cord. "I think it's knotted," she told him.

Draco's eyes lit up in unexpected surprise. "And you would like me to help you undo it?" he surmised, his voice husky. He felt his mouth grow dry and licked his lips in anticipation as he attempted to swallow the lump he suddenly felt in his throat.

Draco was no blushing virgin, unlike his bride. He had been with a witch or two, but this was different. Those girls meant little to him, just a mean to an ends. But Hermione? He felt his heart beating hard in his chest as he lifted a hand up and brushed his fingertips over the knot. He had dreamt of this moment for as long as he could remember.

Licking his lips again, he lifted his other hand and began picking at the knot. He didn't say anything as he worked the knot, knowing if he did he was liable to fuck up this moment.

For her part, Hermione stood silently, a hand at her chest and then at her abdomen. She could feel everything he was doing, the gentle pulls and yanks. When he had first touched the string, she had felt a flock of butterflies pool in the pit of her stomach. Her own mouth had gone dry and she found herself sucking her bottom lip into her mouth to wet it and pressing her lips together. When she felt the garment finally loosen, she reached back and grabbed it to hold the corset closed, her fingers brushing against Draco's.

Once finished, Draco gently took her waist and turned her around to face him. He stood and, resting his hands on her waist, he stared down into her big, beautiful eyes. He could see her shaking and knew she was scared.

She met his silver eyes and she saw something in them that she had never seen before. Sure she had seen lust and easily identified it in his gaze. She knew it, too, having seen the look before, first from Viktor Krum and then later on from Ron. But there was something else in the way Draco looked at her in this moment that was far different from any boy in school. It was then that she realized she was no longer looking at a boy, but a man who was deeply in love with her.

She gave him a nervous, uncertain smile as he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. She parted her lips slightly and he pressed his more firmly, deepening the kiss. He pulled her closer to him as she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck. His hands played with the loose opening of her dress and slipped underneath the silky material.

Gasping, Hermione broke the kiss and bowed her head a bit, panting. Draco rested his forehead against hers, but didn't remove his hand. Her skin was soft and smooth and he wanted more of it. "You should get out of these clothes," he whispered.

She pulled away from him and looked scandalized. "I beg your pardon?" she scoffed.

He chuckled as they broke apart and he returned to his seat. "Weren't you about to shower?" he asked.

She grabbed the corset to prevent it from falling and folded her arms to keep it there. Frowning, she replied, "I'm drawing a bath right now."

He nodded as he leaned back in the chair. "You'll need to get out of those clothes to get into the pool, love," he told her. "Unless you want to ruin that gown? If that's the case, then I'm sure we could have found more entertaining ways to do that."

"No," she said. "I'm not interested in ruining the gown… Thank you for helping me with the strings," she added as an afterthought.

He gave a single nod and said, "You are quite welcome." He watched her while she stood there, unmoving. Finally, he asked, "Would you like me to join you?"

That snapped her out of her daze. "Oh! Um… Well, I don't… I mean," she stammered. Closing her eyes she shook her head and took a deep breath. "I've never bathed with anyone before," she said as she opened her eyes and blushed.

He raised an eyebrow. "I would hope not," he commented. At the startled look on her face, he smirked. "Though I will admit I've never done it either, we are married now."

Her eyes narrowed. "You just want to see me in the nude," she accused.

He laughed, "Well, of course. You're a beautiful woman, love."

She stood straight and held the gown tighter around her body. Turning, she made her way to the bathroom. Mustering her Gryffindor courage, she spoke to the door, "Give me a moment and you may join me if you wish." With that, she disappeared into the bathroom, but left the door open a crack.

Draco sat there stunned. Her offer shot straight to his groin and, quite suddenly, his trousers were far too tight for him. He had just been teasing, knowing she would never agree to it, at least not so soon. And yet…

He jumped up from the chair and flew to the bookshelf, slamming his book into its spot. Running to the bed, he kicked off his shoes and placed them under the bed. He fiddled with his tie as he entered the bathroom and began unbuttoning his oxford.

Hermione sat on the steps of the pool, hiding her body beneath layers of pink and blue bubbles and steam. When she saw him, she immediately averted her gaze while he undressed and jumped into the deep end of the water. He broke the water again as he resurfaced and swam to the side so he could look at her. Once the Muggle born knew he was in, she lifted her eyes to him and blushed even more.

He smirked. "Come now, love, you look embarrassed."

She rolled her eyes. "This is new for me, Draco," she told him. "All of it. Being married, sharing a bath, being around a naked man,…"

"It's new to me, too," he said. "I've never done any of those things either. Well, minus the naked man part. I've seen my own body loads of times, though I can't say the same about girls."

She looked at him curiously. "I thought you said you have had sex before?"

He nodded. "That doesn't mean I actually got to see anything, though," he told her truthfully. "Hogwarts broom closets don't really give much in the way of light and even if we managed to snag an abandoned room, well… There is really only one part of the anatomy that needs to be exposed, isn't there? When you're on a time limit, you don't really have a chance to explore."

She frowned. "So, you're almost as much of a virgin as I am?" she asked, curious.

He chuckled. "I have had sex, love. Just… never much more." He looked at her thoughtfully before swimming over to her and sitting on the step next to her. "How about this," he suggested. "I'll stand on these steps so you can see me if you do the same." Seeing her eyes widen, he rolled his own. "Honestly, princess, we're married now. We're going to see each other naked at some point, might as well get it over with."

"But…"

"I'm nervous, too," he admitted.

"What've you to be nervous about?" she asked curiously. "Unless you're suffering from a Napoleon syndrome."

He lifted an eyebrow. "I think you'll find, rather soon I might add, that I suffer no such thing," he told her with a smirk. "However, as I've said, I've never seen a woman before in less than a dressing gown."

"Didn't your parents ever bring you to the beach?" she asked.

He frowned at that and tilted his head. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Swimsuits," she answered simply.

"Why in Merlin's name would we wear swimsuits to the beach?" he asked, his brow furrowing in his confusion.

She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from bursting out in laughter. "Most people go swimming in the ocean," she explained. "Or at least sunbathe on the beach. Haven't the three of you ever…"

Draco lifted his arm to show her the pale skin. "Do I look as though I spend my time sunbathing on the beach, princess?" he questioned.

"Then why the beach front chalet?" she asked.

He shrugged as he sat back on the steps. "Because we can?" he offered. "Mother used to take me here when I was a lad for a bit of culture. Sometimes it's easier to study when you aren't within easy reach of your mates. Not to mention, reading boring history books is much easier when you can hear and smell the ocean. And you're stalling," he added with a smirk.

As he stood, Draco stepped off of the steps so that he was waist deep in the water and turned to look at her. He held his hand out to her and began leading her further into the water until it came up to his chest. As he pivoted on the ball of his foot, he yanked her so that she fell into his arms. His eyes closed at the feel of her breasts against his chest.

"Draco," she whispered.

Opening his eyes slightly, the Slytherin Prince gazed down at his princess. Her hair was splayed all around her, giving her the look of a water nymph. Cupping her cheek, he kissed her gently on the lips.

When he deepened the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck again and allowed his tongue to slide into her mouth. He may have been thin, but she could feel the lean muscle under his skin and ran her hands over his hard back. He walked her to the side of the pool and used the wall for leverage as he reached down and pulled her legs up to hook around his waist. She could feel his hardened length press against her core and broke the kiss to gasp.

"Draco!" she hissed breathlessly. "Wait!"

He trailed kisses down her cheek and to her neck. "It'll be alright, love," he whispered against a particularly sensitive spot. He laved that spot with his tongue when he heard her unwittingly release a giggle. His cock rubbed against her clit and he could feel her shudder.

"I'm scared," she confessed softly.

He lifted his head and smirked at her. "Hermione Granger who fought a war and won, who could brave being amongst Slytherins, a Miss Know-it-all and Gryffindor princess?" He continued to rub against her, allowing the head of his penis to tease her entrance. "What've you to be afraid of?"

Her eyelids drooped as she let her head fall back. He continued rubbing against her, not entering, just letting her feel. He knew he couldn't have sex with her here in the pool. Even now, all he really felt was friction, the waters and soaps having stripped away the natural lubricants that come with arousal. But he could enjoy touching her, kissing her, and even exciting her. However, he couldn't do this much longer. It had been a couple years since he had been with a girl and it was difficult keeping himself in check, especially when she would shudder, moan, or squirm.

When he thought he couldn't take much more of it, he wrapped his arms around her waist and, pressing her to him, he began walking out of the water. He didn't bother with towels or robes, just walked her into the bedroom, kissing her mouth and nipping at her bottom lip. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they were both soaking wet and covered in soap suds, but at that moment he didn't much care.

Turning slightly to the side, he fell backwards onto the bed, taking her with him. The fireplace lit without a thought as he continued attacking her mouth. He twisted again, causing the pair to roll over so he was on top. Lifting his hand, he brushed his fingers over a breast before cupping it and giving it an experimental squeeze. He groaned at how soft and firm the flesh felt and flicked his thumb over the nipple.

Hermione gasped and threw her head into the duvet as her back arched towards him. Encouraged, he trailed kissed down her collar bone. He pulled away slightly to look at her breasts, then, closing his eyes, he dipped his head and sucked a teat into his mouth. "Oh!" she shouted, her nails digging into his back.

He smiled with the nipple still in his mouth as he let his hand slip further down and between their bodies. Despite the fact that they had just been in the bath, his eyes widened at the feel of a very wet Hermione. He teased her clit between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, God, Draco!" she hissed when he let his finger wander to her entrance.

He aligned his cock to her entrance and released her breast so he could kiss her lips. As they kissed, he continued to prod the entrance until he was able to get his head inside. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as he whispered against her lips, "I love you, Hermione. I promised I would never hurt you and I stand by that promise."

She smiled up at him. "I love you, too," she whispered.

His eyes met hers and he simply stared. Hermione gazed into his silver orbs amazed by how dilated they were. Then, he pushed himself into her with one, swift movement. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small "o" in surprise, but to his amazement, she didn't scream. He continued pushing into her until he was completely seated. Then, he stopped, allowing her to get used to the feel of him.

As a hormonal teenager, Draco had had his fair share of witches, mostly within Slytherin, with the occasional Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. However, he made it a point to never sleep with a virgin. This ensured that the girl couldn't run to her parents about the coupling and force him into something he didn't want.

He waited a bit longer, until he could feel her heartbeat slow. Once he was certain she was alright, he slowly began pulling out. She glanced up at him, opening her mouth, when he thrust back into her. Her eyes widened.

His pace was excruciatingly slow, but he wanted to give her the chance to get used to it. He had heard by several of his mates in the past that the first time for a witch hurt a lot. Soon, however, he stopped thinking as he continued to thrust into her. It felt so good and it had been such a long time since he felt a witch that the moment she shouted her released, he shot his load deep inside of her.

He moved slightly to the side as he collapsed, not wanting to put his weight on top of her. They both were panting and after a moment, he turned slightly and drew her into his arms. At some point during the night, the couple managed to slip under the covers and more towards the middle of the bed. They never released each other, however, finding comfort and warmth in their embrace.

A dark hooded figure slipped into the room. For a moment, he watched as the couple slept peacefully, his eyes narrowed. He did not draw his wand, however. He simply lifted a hand and the duvet flew to him. He waved his other hand and a new, clean duvet appeared hovering above the couple. He was careful as he lowered the duvet upon them.

Once he was certain that neither the witch nor wizard had been disturbed, he folded the soiled blanket in his arms and stepped towards the door. Upon reaching it, he gave the couple one last look, then he was gone.

Deep asleep, Draco reached for the duvet and pulled it over him and his wife.

(II)(II)

Draco's arm was draped over her tightly beneath the covers as he spooned her from behind. Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she glanced around the room, though she did not move. She really needed to go to the bathroom, but he was so warm and the bed so comfortable. That was when she felt his penis pressed into her back. Surprised, she turned in his embrace and looked into his sleeping face.

She just stared at him. He looked so peaceful, so young. Did he even know his penis was hard? She doubted he did. Or perhaps he just ignored it, preferring his slumber. She pulled her arm out from between them very careful, not wanting to wake him, and gently pushed a few strands of white blonde hair out of his eyes.

His eyelids flickered and he scrunched his nose. Pulling her closer to him, he sighed and moaned softly, "Ten more minutes."

For some reason, this amused the Muggle born. She buried her head into his chest to keep herself from laughing, but her giggles caused her upper body to shake with laughter and short, tiny giggles escaped, muffled by her position.

The sounds she made were new to Draco, causing him to frown and open his eyes. He looked down at her in concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, pulling away slightly so he could look at her.

Knowing he was awake now, she threw her head back and released her laughter, earning for herself a stare of confusion. She stopped suddenly and forced herself out of his arms.

"Hermione…"

She waved at him as she ran into the bathroom and shut the door. Draco pulled himself up so that he could sit up against the pillows. That was when he noticed the duvet had been cleaned and he tilted his head in thought. The elves knew not to disturb them, but at the same time he didn't remember anyone even coming into the room.

Draco had never been a light sleeper until the war. As a child, it was a constant struggle of his parents to have him awake and ready. When the Dark Lord moved into their home, however, the young Slytherin prince found he had a hard time, not only falling asleep, but staying asleep. His fear of being murdered in his sleep forced him to constantly watch his surroundings. In his dreams, he often relived the tortures and murders that had occurred in his own home. Most of those dreams he had managed to tuck away into a safe within the depths of his mind, however, there was one that he could never force out of his mind. And every night he saw it. He saw her. She was lying on the hard stone floor, screaming as his aunt carved into her flesh.

When Hermione came out of the bathroom, she was wearing a light translucent pink dressing gown with a silk sash tied at the waist. The sleeves were long and had pink fur at the ends. It left little to the imagination and, as Draco gazed at her, his morning wood became, if possible, even harder. He watched her with amusement as she tried to cover herself up.

"Someone has a perverted sense of humour," she commented sourly as she climbed back on the bed. "Did you know there aren't any proper sleeping garments in the closet?"

"Your gown doesn't look so bad," he pointed out.

She gave him a bored look. "Yes, I was lucky to find this," she said sarcastically. "The actual night dress consists of nothing but lace for the bodice and silk for the skirt."

He frowned. "Well, we are on our honeymoon, love," he commented. "I doubt we'll be wearing many clothes anyway."

She stared at him for a moment. "I thought you said we were going to Normandy and Paris?"

"If that's what you want to do," he said, waving his hand. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed. "I'm a little sore, but I'll be alright," she admitted. "Ginny said the pain would go away after the first couple times."

He grimaced. "Perhaps we shouldn't mention your friends when talking about sex," he suggested.

She sighed as she curled up against him. "So, where are we going?" she asked with a yawn.

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. "Anywhere you want."

(III)(III)

If Draco had his way about it, they would've stay in France for a month. However, by the end of the week, Hermione was ready to go home. There were things she needed to get done that she couldn't do in France.

That wasn't to say that she didn't enjoy herself. After that first morning, she found that she enjoyed being with Draco. They didn't fight like she thought they would. In fact, he was a very pleasant, considerate husband who put her needs before his own. The irony wasn't lost on the Muggle born.

The chalet was incredible. Hermione discovered a vast library, a beautiful drawing room, and a welcoming sitting room. The bar and kitchen had been well-equipped and she soon learned that Maisey was staying with them as well. Of course, Hermione insisted on making a meal or two, but mostly she let the house elf take care of the cooking, knowing it made Maisey happy.

The Gryffindor found the décor of the chalet very odd. Everything was white, or variations of white. Even the piano in the drawing room was white! The drawing room was one of her favourite rooms, too. It was styled much in the same way as the one in Malfoy Manor, minus one difference.

The first time Hermione entered the drawing room, the first thing that stuck out to her were the photographs on the shelves where books should be. And not just there, either. There was a huge family painting right above the mantle that had surprised her the most. It was the first time she had seen such a painting, as the one she assumed was meant to be in the Manor was missing. As she stared at the painting, she took a few steps towards it.

Both Lucius and Narcissa were much younger and the small babe in Narcissa's arms was obviously Draco. They looked happy, if the twinkle in Lucius's eyes were anything to go by. Narcissa lifted Draco up so he could face outward and, cooing, the baby stuck his fist in his mouth. It was apparent that Draco had a full head of hair, but it was such a pale blond that the witch could barely make it out until he dug the same fist he had had in his mouth into his hair and started pulling at it. Hermione watched as Lucius gently pried Draco's hand out of his hair. The family didn't seem to notice the young Muggle born and she was alright with that. It was fascinating to her to witness that tender moment.

She drew her attention away from the portrait and wandered about the room, glancing at the framed pictures on the shelves. There was one of Draco's first broom and him flying it around the room. There was another of Lucius and a much younger Draco sitting on top of a large Abraxan horse. Lucius held onto the reins with one hand and had an arm around his son as Draco giggled, giving the camera a shit-eating smile. Hermione laughed and turned her attention to another picture. Draco's fifth birthday. He was blowing out his candles and the Muggle born saw two other boys with him, one on either side. She immediately recognized them as Blaise and Theodore, though they looked nothing like the men they would become. Blaise's skin was so dark, he looked almost as black as a baby panther. Theodore was scrawny, even as a child. They were both adorable. Another photo was of Draco clutching a letter in his small hands and looking excited. This was the Draco she remembered from her first year and knew he was holding his Hogwarts letter. Hermione's smile was soft as she reached up and took another picture from the shelf to get a better look at it. It must have been his first picture. He was so tiny. Baby Draco yawned and looked sleepily at her before letting his eyes close again in sleep. She stared lovingly at the photo.

The past month had been insane. Her mind was still whirling at the way Ron had treated her that day. How could he think she would cheat on him? It was wrong for Draco to have sent her flowers without her knowledge and a part of her felt that anger for the way he had manipulated the situation. That moment, however, as she stared at that baby picture, was when it all hit her.

She backed up quietly to a chair and sat down. He had told her that he'd sent her the flowers with the purpose of making Ron angry. He knew what would happen, was counting on it, even. She had believed that him being there had been a coincidence, but the truth was, it hadn't. He must have been hiding somewhere, waiting for the right moment.

Placing the frame gently on a side table, the Muggle born reached into her robes and pulled out an old photograph of them together. It had been that night at the Yule Ball. He had been there by the lake and comforted her, even danced with her. Then, without warning, he had kissed her. Her first kiss and it belonged to Draco. No boy ever gave her that same spark. Not Viktor. Not Ron. It just wasn't the same.

Then she thought about the war. All of sixth year, Harry knew Draco had been up to something and Hermione fervently denied it only to learn that her friend had been right the entire time. Draco was a Death Eater. However, the more she thought about it, even when they were running from the Death Eaters, the more she began to doubt whether Draco truly wanted to be one.

That hellish night in Malfoy Manor would forever burn in her nightmares. That cursed dagger left a scar on her arm that she would never be able to get rid of. But even in her fear and pain, she had caught the look in Draco's eyes. The sheer terror in his glance told her that he didn't want to be there. He didn't want to see what was happening to her. At the time she thought he was just developing a conscience, but what if it was more than that? Was he in love with her even then? Or had he been in love with her when they were by the lake? And who had taken this picture and why?

She had spoken to Blaise and Theodore a lot when they had returned for their final year. Sure she had Ginny and Luna, but, honestly, those two Slytherins were the ones she had spent the most time with. Life was a lot calmer around them. She didn't have to worry about either of them breaking down into a sobbing mess or spouting about nonsensical things. It was selfish, but Hermione enjoyed the solace she had found with the pair. And if she broke down? They were there to listen or lend a shoulder.

It was part of why she and Pansy had started getting along as well. The Slytherins never really judged her. Or, at least, if they did, they never said anything. Pansy didn't tease the Gryffindor and Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had heard the term "Mudblood" directed at her. Well, no, that was a lie. Goyle had recently called her that, but he didn't return to school.

All those conversations. Blaise and Theodore had often spoken of Draco. At the time, Hermione assumed it was just because they missed their friend. Now, as she glanced up at the birthday picture, she wondered if it was more than that. What if they were setting her up? They never said anything negative about him and often told her stories of their childhood and the bits of mischief they had gotten into together.

Was it all just an elaborate set-up by Draco? The friendships, the comradery? How much had she told those boys that they, in turn, told Draco? Had they all been in on it?

She was even starting to question Pansy's role in this. It was no secret that the girl didn't like her. All through their school years, Pansy had tormented Hermione far worse than Draco or any other Slytherin had ever done. She had even been worse than Millicent. And yet, that year that Hermione had returned, it seemed like Pansy had changed dramatically and suddenly.

She was still sitting in the drawing room when Draco walked in. He had a towel draped around his shoulders and his hair was still dripping from his shower. She watched as he sauntered towards her with such a regal gait. It was then that she saw it.

Hermione had often heard the term "Slytherin Prince" in regards to Draco, Blaise, or Theodore. She had laughed it off, however, thinking the term some pompous invention to stroke their egos. The Muggle born felt her mouth grow dry. Draco wasn't a Prince of Slytherin. He was _the_ Prince of Slytherin. Blaise and Theodore were just his friends.

He gave her a lazy smirk and tilted his head slightly. "What've you been up to, love?" he asked in his typical drawl.

She held out the picture of their dance to hand to him. "Who took this photo?" she asked, not bothering to answer his question. He was smart enough that she knew he'd figure it out.

He took the photo from her to look at it. She saw his eyes flicker, but couldn't interpret the meaning. "There was this little Gryffindor kid running around, snapping shots," he explained as he plopped into the chair across from her. He lifted a trouser covered leg and crossed it over the other one as he seemed to think about it. "Some little bloke that used to follow Potter around all the time. Muggle born, like yourself, with curly blond hair, if I remember right."

"Collin," Hermione said. "Collin Creevey took this photo?"

Draco lifted a single eyebrow. He could see the cogs in her mind turning, but didn't quite know why yet. "I believe that was his name, yes. Honestly, love, I didn't much care to learn his name."

"How did you get the photo?" she asked, filing the information he gave for a later date.

Dropping his leg, he leaned forward. "Think for a moment, my dear. I saw him snap the shot from a bush. What do you think would have happened if that photo leaked? I wasn't about to let him keep it."

"Don't call me 'dear'," she hissed. "Your father uses that term and it creeps me out. And what do you mean you 'wasn't about to let him keep it'? Did you bully him into giving it to you?"

He scoffed and leaned back in his seat. "No, love, I bought it," he admitted. "And at a decent enough price that he couldn't refuse."

"What did he get for it?"

Draco frowned. "What?"

"You heard me. How much was it? What was I worth?" she asked, then shook her head. "Actually, I'm not sure I want to know. All of these years and I had no idea. Are the friendships even real or were Blaise and Theodore just working on me so I would learn to like you more? I lost my family and I wager that played perfectly into your hands, didn't it? You took advantage of your father being in prison, too. You knew you could pursue me and there was nothing he could bloody well do about it. All you needed was to convince your mother. How did you manage that one? She turned her own sister away for marrying a Muggle born."

He gave no emotion as she spoke. The only indication of his thoughts was the raise of a single eyebrow when she mentioned his friends. "Are you finished?" he asked.

She glared at him. "You're not going to deny it?" She stood up and began pacing. "You had planned the entire fight between Ron and I, too, didn't you? Oh, I know you had admitted it before, but I didn't realize then just how far you had gone. How far did you go, Draco?" she asked as she rounded on him. "You were in self-exile for two years. What did you do during those years? Were you prepping your mother up? Me? Giving your friends ideas and suggestions on how to treat me? You know Pansy never liked me, but now she treats me like we've been friends since we were in our nappies. Why is that? What did you tell her?"

"Why are you assuming I had anything to do with her?"

"Because I know you!" she snarled, staring at him. "You are the Slytherin Prince. Every person in that House, especially those in our year, was under your thumb. They do everything you tell them to. Vincent and Gregory followed you around like bulldogs to protect you. Not because they really had to, but because they wanted to be part of your little group of followers." She waved a hand in his face and turned away. "Pansy… Pansy was your girlfriend, but you only dated her for one of two reasons, either to try and make me jealous or to convince your father you were interested in keeping the line pure. The moment he was incarcerated, you broke up with her. Gave her some sob story about how you had too many responsibilities and didn't have time to be with her." She barked a laugh, "Bet that was a quick way to get rid of her without leaving her bitter. How did you do that one? Because she's still your friend. She, Millicent, and Daphne always sung your praises in the dormitory. And Blaise and Theodore never spoke ill of you."

"You think I had something to do with that?" he asked.

"I know you did, Draco, so don't lie to me!"

He sneered at her and snarled, "In case you've forgotten, I can't lie to you, princess. That was part of the Unbreakable Vow that I agreed to."

Her eyes widened in realization and she pointed a finger at him. "You can't. Not anymore. So, tell me the truth. All of it. I want to know. I need to know."

He stared at her for a long moment. "You think you have it all figured out," he mused. He stood up and approached her, slipping the towel from around his neck and ripping it into two pieces. He tossed one piece away and began twisting the other as she started backing up.

Hermione saw the dangerous look in his eyes and realized she had left her wand on the nightstand by the bed. "What are you doing?" she asked fearfully as he backed her into a corner.

Without a word, he grabbed her arms and pressed her against the wall. He dipped his head and, moving her head to the side, gently kissed her neck before whispering into her ear, "A Slytherin never reveals all of his secrets. Ever since I first saw you, I knew you were the girl I would marry. We belong together, Granger. We always have."

He released her and she jerked away from him. His eyes flashed at her movement and narrowed angrily. "Careful, love," he warned. He walked back to the armchair and sat back down. "I wouldn't say I planned all of it," he drawled. "Most of the time, I wanted to push you away. You were this little Muggle born who bested me at everything. I both admired you and hated you for it." He raised a hand to stop her before she could protest. "You said your piece. Now it's my turn, love. Don't be rude." He watched as she snapped her mouth shut and gave him a dirty glare.

Sighing, he called out, "Maisey!"

The little elf popped into the room and, before Draco could say anything, Hermione shot, "You don't even support the idea of treating elves like equals. You even said that you didn't like the idea of freeing them!"

"Hermione, I won't ask you again," he told her before glancing at the elf. "Maisey, would you bring Mrs. Malfoy and me some tea and crumpets?"

Maisey nodded eagerly. "Right away, Master Draco," she replied as she popped out of the room with a loud crack.

"I will say this much, though," he said to his wife as he stared at her with unblinking eyes. "I never said anything to Pansy. At least nothing that would make her treat you any more civilly, however, she's a clever little snake and I wouldn't put it past her to figure out how I felt about you. I never told anyone while we were in school, or even after the war," he admitted as a tray appeared on the coffee table before them. The tray had a pot of tea and two cups on it. Another tray of sconces appeared next to it and Draco reached forward to pour the tea. He held the cup out for Hermione and she took it, watching him as he poured one for himself and snatched a sconce.

She continued to watch him, remembering what Andromeda had said. She waited until he took a sip of his drink before doing the same. "So it was jealousy?" she ventured as he leaned back in his chair again and propped one foot up and over his other foot. "The way Pansy treated me. She did it out of jealousy?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps. From what Nott told me, most of them knew my feelings towards you. It could have prompted them to speak to you of me of their own accord," he said as he bit into the sconce. He quietly chewed and swallowed before continuing, "Merlin knows I never told them anything. Father would have killed me if he had found out, and I'm not saying that lightly."

"But he did know," she interrupted again. He lifted an eyebrow and she continued, "He told me when he was in prison. The moment he realized you liked me, he began learning all he could about my family and me. He even visited with them. What I don't understand is why you never told me. All those years in Hogwarts, not once…"

"I did tell you," he snapped and she looked at him incredulously. He held up the picture. "Did you think I was only joking this night? It was sheer luck that I spotted you storming out of the castle. I was already frustrated because I didn't attend the ball with the girl I wanted." He scoffed. "I hated dancing with Pansy, but even more, I hated watching you dance with Krum. It looked awful. You looked as though you were having fun enough, but it should have been me. You should have been in my arms, not his. And when I saw the opportunity by the lake, I took it."

"And then you bullied Collin into giving you that photo."

"I didn't bully him, love," he said, growing more irritated with her. "I told you. I paid for this photo, fair and square. Gave him five Galleons and another five to keep his ugly trap shut." He made a face. "I knew if Father learned about our little tryst he would flip out. He would probably have even gone after you. I didn't want you in danger, so I took the photograph and stowed it away."

"And your mum?" she asked.

He shrugged. "She's always been easier than Father. When it comes to me, she's a bit of a pushover. Anything I've ever wanted, she's made sure I had," he admitted. "Again, it was chance and luck. The Malfoys had chosen the wrong side of the war. The moment we realized this, we did what we could to pull out. We gave the Dark Lord the bare minimum of our services and the moment the opportunity presented itself, we switched. However, Father's incarceration left our family in ruins." He glanced at her. "It was the perfect time to plant the idea of you into Mother's head. All I had to do was let her catch me looking at this photograph and she would put the pieces together herself. Do you know she actually ordered me to pursue you? And like a dutiful son, I pretended to be reluctant of the idea, even going so far as to lead her to believe I didn't even think I could actually pull it off."

"So what convinced you that you could? You knew Ron and I were engaged."

"And there you are," he said with a wave of his hand as though it were obvious.

Her eyes widened. "You knew Ron would react harshly if you sent me those flowers."

"He is the jealous sort, love," he told her. "And he knew he was teetering on the edge with you. Don't know how he managed to cheat without you finding out, though. He's not exactly the world's greatest at… well, anything." He shook his head. "That was another thing that played right into my hands. All I needed to do was give him a little push and he would be off."

"Did you not think I would figure it all out?"

"No," he answered. "In fact, I was actually worried you would figure it out a lot sooner. You are the brightest witch in our age. But then, you've been really depressed since the war and I couldn't figure out why." He stared at her and sipped his drink. "Nott was the one who clued me in on your parents. Well, him and Zabini."

"So they do act as your informants," she immediately accused.

He glared at her distastefully. "Would you stop that? And no, they don't act as my informants," he stated. "At least not as much as you seem to think. I had no idea either of them had returned to school and I certainly did not know the three of you would become all chummy."

"But it worked in your favour."

He shrugged. "It's all about opportunity, love. When it presents itself, one must take it." He sighed again and put his cup back on the tray. "And so, there you have it. Yes, I have liked, and even been in love, with you for about half of my life. Why wouldn't I? We're perfect for one another, even a fool could see that. As I said, I knew from the beginning that I would marry you some day. It was just figuring out how. After the Dark Lord returned, I thought for sure I had lost entirely," he told her. His face became solemn as he cast his eyes down. "The worst night of my life was the night you came to Malfoy Manor. You will never know how badly I wanted to curse my aunt for doing what she did to you, but I knew the consequences if I tried. It was all I could do to pray for a miracle. Then that little upstart Dobby popped in. Merlin, I hated that elf, but I was thankful he saved you."

"He was a good elf," she stated, lifting her brow, daring him to say otherwise.

Surprisingly, he didn't, but he did give her a look that told her what he thought of the comment. "I still didn't think I had a chance," he said to her. "I believe that's why I put myself in a sort of house arrest. I needed time to think, to figure out what happened and what I could do. Father was in prison, Mother was starving herself to death, and the Malfoy fortune was being depleted. Our production levels were dangerously low thanks to the Dark Lord and his minions and we were constantly sending Galleons to Hogwarts and Mungo's to aid in reconstruction and recovery. I actually ended up having to close one of the vaults because of it."

Hermione frowned. "How many vaults do you have?" she asked. "I thought it all would have been in one vault."

He stared at her. "I'm sure most people have only one vault, but those vaults can only hold so much. We originally had three and, right before the Dark Lord arrived, Father had spoken of opening a fourth. Thank Merlin he didn't."

"Three…" she breathed in shock. "Merlin. You could open a school in every country with that kind of money."

He actually laughed. "I think opening the little primary school is enough for now," he told her. "Now that Father has returned, I do believe production will start to climb again and, hopefully, we'll get back to the way things were before the war. At least as far as our finances are concerned."

"Something tells me we'll be alright."

He gave her a smile and nodded. Glancing at the mantle, he sighed. "Are you ready to go home, love?" he asked her.

"Yes!" she answered as she stood. "Where is this new home your Mother gave us? There's so much that I need to do."

His smile widened. "Right outside of Hogsmeade," he told her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whew! Lot longer than I expected. I actually had to trim the end of this because it was getting too long.

**Chester99:** I think Lucius apologizing to Ginny is an important step. Not because he actually believes he did anything wrong, but because it would be his way of acknowledging that he had unwittingly put a child in harm's way. Forgiveness is a long road and I don't see Ginny giving him that any time soon, but I do think that this would be a stepping stone in that path and it is something she needs. Say what you will about Ginny, but this takes place two years after the war. She never got over what Lucius had done to her the first time. She doesn't know everything that happened in the Ministry and, personally, I don't believe he actually meant for anyone to get hurt there either. And during the final battle? She knows he didn't participate, but if she hadn't even gotten over something that happened to her when she was 11 years old... you also have to consider the fact that the Malfoys and Weasleys have been in this long standing feud for Merlin knows how long. There's no telling what Arthur, his parents, or grandparents might have told Ginny when she was a child, because let's face it. Wizards live for a stupid amount of time. Do you really believe her great grandparents are dead? And the whole thing with Dumbledore will be dealt with. It won't come from Draco, though, because he still feels guilty over the old coots death.

**Occupational Haz**: I love Luna. Always have. She reminds me of a side of myself that comes out more often than I would like. She's such an endearing gentle quirky soul that you just can't help but love. And Nott is so grounded in a lot of ways. I actually picture him to be a Virgo sign or something equally as earthy. He's funny, yes, and can be quite wild in his ideas (He really needs to learn how to use a rubber before he gets himself in trouble. Lol!) Thing I like most about Theodore is that he's such an understated character in the books, like Blaise, that he can literally be anything I want him to be. Gives me a sort of freedom. And Lucius is the most truthful of the Malfoys. He's at the bottom of the totem pole right now, he literally has little to lose and everything to gain by being honest. He doesn't have his wand and he just got out of prison. Honestly, though, 20 years in your own home can soon start to feel like a prison. BUT, he does get to walk the grounds. He can converse with his associates and employees, so he might not be that bad off. The honesty you see in Lucius is literally the only card he has to play with Hermione right now. He wants to get into her good graces, to get her to trust him. Why? Well... that's a story for another chapter. ;)

**SereniteRose:** That's just it, though, isn't it? Hermione is a Muggle born and she fought against Voldemort in the war. Lucius never had business dealings with her father nor did he set up the marriage. Everything between Draco and Hermione is completely out of Lucius's control... at the moment.

**SmileSimplify:** Lucius is home for good. In fact, he won't be leaving the grounds of Malfoy estate for a couple of decades. Draco's reaction to Ginny would have been the same if she had said something just as insulting to Hermione. He's protective and he knows what his family has gone through. At the same token, Ginny is still sore from things that have happened in the past. This fight needed to occur. Hermione and Draco will be together for a very long time and, because of this, there will have to be some changes. You'll see. Things will be changing because they have to.

** Kats02980416:** Hermione will learn to live in that environment. She hasn't a choice now. Things are going to be tense, especially here Lucius is concerned.

**ForTheLoveOfMerlin:** You probably won't read this, because you've already stated that you weren't going to read any further than Chapter 9, however, I decided to keep your review for the purpose of responding to it. I'm curious to know how a person can jump to conclusions without knowing the whole story. There's a reason Hermione wanted Lucius out of prison and why she would attend such a celebration. And, as stated in this chapter (if you had bothered to read further), Draco did have to close one of the vaults. To him, that is a devastating thing, especially if his father had spoken of opening a fourth one. To a man who has had money his entire life, such a blow would lead him to believe he was poor. (It's an allegory of the way people born with a silver spoon would react to suddenly losing a chunk of their wealth.) Also, if you had continued reading, you would learn that it had all been part of Draco's plan. He had to get Narcissa to believe that it was her idea. Why else would a Pureblood witch from an old Pureblood family condone her only son marrying a Muggle born? I am sorry you decided to stop reading the story so soon, but I understand. Lord knows I've stopped reading fanfics after a few chapters because I didn't like the direction they were going. Meh. To each their own. But on the offchance that you do read this, I hope I managed to clear some things up for you. If you would like to discuss it further, you can PM me. And thank you for the complement on my grammatical skills. (Hoping to become an author to my own stories one day. ;) )


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione was still angry with Draco and felt that she didn't get all the answers she had wanted. However, she found a bit of solace in the fact that the answers he did give her were all true. If anything, she trusted in the Vow that he didn't lie when he informed her that he knew nothing of the time she had spent with Blaise or Theodore. It still troubled her that Pansy had begun treating her better out of seemingly nowhere, but a bit more digging could probably find the answers to those questions.

The home she and Draco arrived in reminded her much of a miniature Malfoy Manor. It had probably half the number of rooms and corridors, but still carried an air of danger with it that she wasn't sure she cared for too much. "Your mother did say we could decorate however we like, right?" she asked as she placed some luggage on the bed. The bedroom was styled much the same as an old Victorian room. In fact, the entire house was reminiscent of the past.

Draco glanced up as he opened his trunk and looked around. "I believe so, though you'll want to be careful. Many of the things here are not just old, but expensive and fragile," he warned.

The Muggle born rolled her eyes and gave him a bored look. "What in this family isn't old and expensive and fragile?" she asked a bit sarcastically. "Also, when we have children, I don't want to expose them to such things that they could break or get injured on. I would like to brighten this place up a bit. Maybe not to the extent that the chalet was, but adding colours other than green, grey, and black would be nice."

"I won't have you filling this entire manor with Gryffindor propaganda," he said, pointing a pair of rolled up socks at her. "I don't mind a banner or two. You can even have a few throw pillows or blankets."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Worried our children will become Gryffindors?" she asked, feeling a little miffed.

He frowned and shook his head. "Not at all," he said. "I think House Pride is a good thing. If the war has taught me anything, it is that people are people and who they are cannot be dictated by the House they are Sorted into when they are eleven years old."

"Well said!" the Gryffindor praised, a bit surprised those words had come out of his mouth.

He gave her a small smile. "On the same note," he continued, "no Malfoy has ever been in a House other than Slytherin and, personally, I would like to keep it that way, if you don't mind."

She folded her arms. "And if any of our children were to not be Sorted into Slytherin?" she questioned, a flash of challenge in her eyes.

Tossing another pair of socks on the bed, Draco sighed. "We'll love them just the same," he replied. He was beginning to grow tired of the questioning. Ever since they left the chalet, it had been one question after the other. He looked at her. "What is with all these questions, love?"

She shook her head and looked away. Sitting on the side of the bed, she answered, "I don't know. I just… You have to admit this is all happening so fast." She glanced up at him. "It feels like we started dating the very hour Ron and I broke up and not even a month after, we're married. I can't help but feel that if my parents were here, they would be greatly disappointed in me."

"Why?" he asked. "Because you married the richest bloke in all of England?"

The witch scoffed. "No. Because I hardly know anything about you," she told him. "Because I did not give my heart time to heal and because I didn't think this through. I was so caught up in what was being offered to me, I didn't take the time to consider any consequences." She saw him frown and stopped him before he could protest. "Your father hates me, Draco."

"My father doesn't even know you."

"That's just it, though! He doesn't even know me and he hates me! Why? Because I'm a Mudblood."

"Don't call yourself that," he growled distastefully.

She huffed. "Why not? It's what I am! I'm a Gryffindor Mudblood and I'm proud of it. God bless your mum for trying to find ways to work with it, but it's something she will have to learn to deal with as well." Her elbows dug into her thighs as she rested her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes with the tips of her fingers. "I still don't know everything that has happened. I don't understand it all and somehow, I feel like this is all my fault."

He frowned. "What is all your fault?"

She waved a hand at him. "This!" she hissed. "You, me, your parents…"

"Bloody hell, Hermione! Is your life really so horrible now with me?" he asked, glaring at her. "Merlin's beard, we've barely even started and you're already equating our relationship as what? What do you think this is?"

"I don't know!" she shouted as she stood up. "I don't know what to make of any of this. We set off on this whirlwind romance, I hardly have time to catch my breath before we're married. Our wedding was a fiasco…"

"That wasn't your fault," he pointed out. "If Potter's little redhead hadn't started…"

"And that's another thing!" she screeched, throwing her hands up in the air. "You and your father are so against the Weasleys that you can't even see straight."

"Well, yeah," he said. "Every time I look at them, all I see is red." He snapped his fingers. "It's the hair! All that red hair makes me think of those Spanish bulls. Can't help but want to charge at them at full speed."

She shook her head and turned away from him. "I can't talk to you," she said.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him so she would face him. "Don't turn away from me," he growled angrily.

She tried to jerk away from him, but he was stronger and only tightened his grip. "Let go of me," she snarled, bearing her teeth.

"You won't walk away from me," he told her, calmly. "We were having a discussion. That doesn't require any of this ugliness."

"Then you shouldn't insult my friends," she snapped.

His eyes flashed again. "Your friends?" he spat as he released her. He jabbed the air with two of his fingers. "That girl insulted my father twice at _our_ wedding! More than twice! In fact, every time she comes here, if she's not insulting him, then she's insulting me." He pointed at Hermione. "Let me catch her insulting you. Don't think I will hesitate to make her life a living hell. You are my wife and I'll be damned if anyone speaks ill of you."

"Including your father?" she asked as she rubbed her upper arm where he had grabbed.

His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists at his sides. "Since we've been married, my father hasn't said one wrong word about you," he told her. "If anything, he's been nothing but cordial to you since his return."

"I wouldn't exactly say that," she said with a face. "He hasn't tried to hex me yet, but that's probably more because he doesn't have a wand. Nor has he called me a Mudblood, but he has this strange way of using the phrase 'my dear' that makes me uneasy."

"You've told me that."

"Did you know he can do wandless magic?" she asked. "At the reception, when he and I were dancing, we had this insane conversation that absolutely no one could hear. Of course, I recognized the spell immediately, though I didn't hear him say an incantation."

He smirked and she took a step back in disbelief. "Funny thing about old wizarding families. So many people think we're so far inbred that we lack the brain capacity to actually be intelligent enough to master such skill." He shook his head. "Who do you think taught me wandless and even wordless magic? The summer before our fifth year, that was all Father and I worked on when he wasn't playing errand boy to the Dark Lord. Of course, I was no professional, but the very next summer Mother and Aunt Bella picked up where Father had left off."

Dropping the socks on the bed, Draco called for Maisey. When she appeared, he gently ordered, "Finish unpacking for us and make sure something is prepared for dinner. It's been a long day and I'm famished."

"I can unpack my own…"

Draco reached out to Hermione and pulled her into his embrace. "No, Maisey can do it. Honestly, love, I would like to spend some peaceful time in my new home with my new wife," he cooed as he pressed her head against his chest. Hermione didn't protest, but let him hold her for a moment. Finally, he loosened his grip and looked down at her. When she met his eyes, he asked, "Are you still angry with me, love?"

Hermione stared up at him for a moment, looking into his silvery grey eyes. Had this man truly loved her most of his life? "Do you remember the day we met?" she asked curiously.

He gave a little snort. "Yeah, I do. Ol' Longbottom had lost his toad on the train and you had made it your mission to find it for him. I almost thought you were daft because you didn't answer me right away. Then, when you did, you were speaking so fast I could barely understand a word you were saying. But I did manage to catch your name," he added with a smile.

She blushed. "Well, I was a bit nervous," she admitted, staring down at his chest. "I didn't know that they made boys like you and I didn't quite understand what it was I was feeling at the time."

"Boys like me?" he repeated with a smirk. "Why, Mrs. Malfoy, were you crushing on me all those years ago?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I think it was the hair," she said, lifting a hand to run through those white locks.

He chuckled as he bent down to kiss her softly on the lips. "Tell me more," he whispered greedily as he began backing her up to the bed. "What was it you liked about my hair?"

"Honestly, it looked so stiff, though that was no doubt in part because of the amount of potion you put in it. However, I imagined it must have been soft even then," she told him. "You always looked so impeccable. Even as you grew, your clothes always fit you so well. I had no doubt that you would look good in anything you wore."

He made a low "Mmmm" sound in his throat as he turned her head slightly so he could kiss the tender spot of her neck. "Go on," he breathed, letting his hot breath brush against her skin.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "You were… I… Ooohh, do that again," she moaned as he nipped and sucked at her neck.

He smirked to himself as he gently pushed her onto the bed. He broke away long enough to strip off his shirt, not caring if he ripped buttons off. As he unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, he climbed onto the bed, staring at her with lust filled eyes.

She gave him a nervous smile. They'd been married for a week and she was still a bit surprised at his aggression, especially when it came to sex. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered Lavender and Pavarti gushing over how great it would be to have sex with the Slytherin Prince. In fact, there were hardly any girls in Hogwarts who didn't loudly daydream about Draco. As she watched him kick off his trousers and begin working on her clothes, she could understand why.

She wasn't sure if it was his time as a Death Eater or all those years playing Quidditch that gave him the lean, tight muscle, but she silently thanked whatever it was that had done it. She pushed herself back slightly and lifted a hand to push her hair out of the way as he slipped her blouse off, revealing the racy bra underneath. A fire burned in his eyes at the sight and he made quick work of her skirt to discover a matching pair of knickers.

His lips crashed against hers as his hands ran over her body. Sliding one hand under her bra, he teased the nipple there while his other hand glided under the waist band of her knickers. "So wet for me already, love," he said softly as he rubbed her clit between two fingers.

Hermione arched her back when he pressed a finger against her entrance, letting just the tip of it poke inside. "Oh, God, Draco," she groaned. "Please."

He licked his lips as he began working on her womanhood, pressing his thumb against her clit as he started thrusting two fingers inside her, curling them as they entered. All the time, he continued rolling her nipple between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. He sucked on her neck, alternating between kissing and nipping. That was when he decided to do something he had never done before. Reaching behind her, he unhooked her bra and pulled it off with one hand – his other was still buried in her quim – then, he lowered himself and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

Hermione hissed and her hands submerged themselves in his hair. "Sweet Merlin," she whispered, shuddering at the sudden feel.

Draco moved by sheer instinct, never having suckled on a teat before, at least not that he could remember. The taste of her skin was addicting and Draco found that all he wanted was more. She felt good, too, writhing against him as he continued his attempt to immerse his fingers inside of her. He had fingered her before, of course. After a day of the typical missionary, baby making sex, he grew curious about what else he could do. He had heard so many stories from Nott, Zabini, and other House mates, but had never given himself the chance to indulge. Now he could, and he intended to.

He continued moving further down, licking and kissing a path down her abdomen. He pulled at her knickers with his free hand before taking his fingers out of her to use both hands. She glanced down at him to watch as he worked her knickers, lifting her hips up a bit to help him. He gave her a grateful smile as he took the knickers off and tossed them behind him. He ran a finger along her slit, marvelling at how wet she felt. Curiously, he lifted his finger up to inspect it a moment. He sniffed at it and, to Hermione's surprise, licked it. The Muggle born's eyes widened as he stuck his finger in his mouth and the looked at it curiously, his lips pinched together.

"What are you doing?" she asked, staring at him.

He licked his lips thoughtfully before responding. "I've never tasted anyone before," he told her. "I've heard stories, but never really much cared, thinking it was a bit gross. Besides, why would I want to taste someone who wasn't my wife?" He shrugged. "The only girl I ever thought to do this with is you, love."

"You could have done this at the chalet," she commented, biting her lip as he reached down and began teasing her clit again.

"You're right," he replied, "but I was too busy trying to impregnate you." He gave her a smirk as she frowned up at him.

She tilted her head. "Do you think I'm pregnant?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not, but I suppose it doesn't matter much anyway," he said as he situated himself between her legs, propping his arms up on his elbows. "Given the amount of sex we've had and the amount we will have, I am hoping you'll become pregnant soon enough."

The time for talking as over as he dipped his fingers in her quim again and restarted the act of fingering her. It was a different taste for him, but he didn't dislike it. Of course, he had only licked his finger. The true test would be to taste her directly. So, that's what he did, licking her clit.

A sharp gasp and moan was all the confirmation Draco needed to know she enjoyed it. He continued licking her. Trying to go further, he took his fingers out of her and actually tried to push his tongue inside.

"Oh my God," he heard her moan.

When she bucked, her clit slammed into his nose causing him to pull back and cover his nose. "Shit!" he growled and she glanced up at him in concern.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

He rubbed his nose, but nodded. "Yesh, I'm fine," he said.

There was concern in her eyes, though she giggled, "Are you sure?"

He glared at her as he dropped his hand. "Think this is funny, do you?"

She smirked. "I can't help it," she said and she gave him a remorseful look. "Draco, I…"

Before she could say more, he jumped on her, tickling her sides. She squealed as he threatened playfully, "I'll give you something to laugh about!"

She giggled and kicked, unable to do much more as he held both of her small hands in one of his large ones. "Draco!" she gasped with tears streaming down her eyes.

"What's wrong, my sweet little lion?" he asked in a teasing tone as he continued to tickle her side. "Did you get ensnared by the big bad snake?"

He eased up his tickling as he bent down towards her, dipping his head so he could lick the curve of her neck. "Mmmm…" he groaned as he flicked his tongue. "So delicious."

She giggled again and squirmed. "Oh, God, Draco," she laughed.

He smirked as he licked her flesh again. Sometime during their play, she had ended up crossing her legs. He pried her legs apart by pushing his leg between them. He realigned himself so he was comfortable and reached down to grab his dick. He felt her opening with the tip of his cock and plunged into her with one quick thrust. They both groaned as he became fully situated inside of her and she unconsciously wrapped her legs around his waist.

She moaned in time with his thrusts, and soon, he began moaning with her. "Merlin, Hermione," he panted as he ploughed into her. "Fuck!" He grabbed her hips and thrust harder into her.

"Oh!" she gasped, not prepared for his aggression. He sped up and she grabbed the duvet beneath her to keep herself from hitting the backboard of the bed. "Yes! Yes! Harder!" she screeched.

He pulled out of her and climbed off so he could flip her onto her stomach. "Get on your knees," he ordered gruffly

Hermione tucked her legs under herself and lifted herself up so she was on her hands and knees. Draco pushed on her upper back. "Just your arse," he growled.

As she rested her head on the pillow, he plunged back into her warm wetness. He grabbed a handful of her hair and began fucking her fast and hard. "Dr-Dr-Drac-c-co! Too d-d-deeeepp!" she screamed.

He pulled her up by her hair and snarled in her ear, "Don't ever cut this hair. It's too bloody sexy. I'm going to fuck you into this bed, Granger."

The Muggle born couldn't think. She had been fucked this hard by him before, and had enjoyed it immensely. As he forced her face back into the pillow and held her there, she could feel herself shiver violently. He leaned forward and she could feel the fine hairs of his barely there happy trail tickle her lower back as he grunted with each thrust. His free hand reached around her waist to the front of her pussy and he began stroking her clit fast and hard. Hermione bit the pillow to muffle her screams as his fucking became brutal.

"Fuck!" he shouted. "Come for me, Hermione."

She never knew how he did it, but she saw white as she threw her head back and screamed. For a moment she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as she felt him give one final shove and empty his seed deep inside her. He continued to give shallow thrusts as her body milked every last drop of him.

As he began to slow down, he released her hair and his grip he somehow had on her hip. Turning slightly, he collapsed beside her, his spent cock slipping out of her and flopping onto his leg. She buckled over him awkwardly and pulled her arm out from under her so she could drape it over his chest. She panted heavily and her eyes fluttered. She lifted her hand to push some of her unruly hair out of her eyes. She gazed up at him, amazed as always by how innocent he looked when he was relaxed. She touched his jaw with the tips of her fingers and smiled at how smooth the skin felt. She wondered if he ever had to worry about growing a beard, or if he somehow managed to cast a spell to keep facial hair at bay.

"Give me a moment, love," he whispered softly. He turned on his side towards her and pulled her into his embrace. "I could lay like this forever."

Hermione smiled. She didn't know exactly when she had fallen in love with the Slytherin, but she could no longer deny her feelings towards him. It would be pointless anyhow, since they were now married. She still wasn't entirely sure of his intentions or plans, but she felt comfort in the idea that he wouldn't hurt her. There were still many questions she had, but the anger seemed to seep out of her. _Sneaky Slytherin_, she thought. _He did this on purpose because he knew it would calm me down._

"I love you," she whispered to him as she kissed his peck and allowed her eyes to flutter shut.

"I love you, too."

(II)(II)

Hermione took a deep breath as she stood at a large door. Next to her was a house elf who looked as though it could choke the life out of her without a second thought.

"Master Lucius will call for Mistress Hermione when Master Lucius is ready. Stay here, please," the elf told her before disappearing with a profound _crack!_

The Muggle born's eyes narrowed. If he wasn't ready to see her, then why in Merlin's name had he summoned her?

Hermione had spent the day shopping with Luna and Ginny. While her new Manor was completely furnished and decorated, it lacked a lot of the things Hermione loved. She could, and would, live there regardless, but she wanted to make it more into a home for Draco and her. Honestly, it was way too spacious, but the Gryffindor went with it. It was smaller than Malfoy Manor, after all, and the only occupants were Draco and herself. She didn't have to worry about his parents constantly being there. As much as she loved Narcissa, the Pureblood witch was a bit too stuff for Hermione at times.

Another elf appeared after what seemed like forever. "Master Lucius wishes to see Mistress Hermione now," the elf said in a gruff and rather unpleasant voice.

"Thank…" she started, but stopped as the elf disappeared suddenly. Hermione frowned as she stepped into the room.

She had been in Lucius's study once before, though Lucius hadn't been there. During her initial tour of the Manor, Draco had purposely stopped there and allowed her inside to see it. It hadn't changed. Dark mahogany furniture gave the study an imposing look. The room was lit by the fireplace and candles placed in strategic spots. Two dark brown leather armchairs sat in front of the fireplace with end tables on either side of them. On the floor rested a large rug that bore the Malfoy crest in dark green and black. But it was the large, mahogany desk all the way in the back of the room that caught her attention. Sconces on the wall lit the back of the room and illuminated the desk and the person sitting there. Dark brown leather chairs sat in front of the desk, while Lucius sat in an equally leather, but larger chair behind it.

As always, Lucius looked impeccable, but to Hermione's surprise, he wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His long hair hung loosely on his shoulders, a few strands having fallen forward as he bent his head down to write. The Gryffindor held her head up high as she approached the desk.

"Give me a moment, my dear," Lucius said without looking up. "Take a seat."

The Muggle born watched as he finished the letter he was writing. His signet ring flashed in the candlelight. "Does the low light help you to feel more intimidating?" she asked.

He glanced up at her and smirked. "Are you intimidated, my dear?"

"Hardly," she said with a sniff. The smirk on his face was an exact replica of Draco's and Hermione wanted nothing more than to wipe it off of his face. She added haughtily, "I've fought you before, if you recall. I believe we both remember the outcome of _that_ disaster."

She took silent pleasure in the way he pressed the quill to the letter slightly harder than necessary and clenched his left fist. "Continue to play with fire, pet, and you will get burned," he warned as he placed the quill in its holder and looked up at her.

"I'm not your pet," she told him. "Nor am I one of your servants who can be summoned whenever you wish. My time is valuable, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest the next time you wish to see me, you send me an owl and make an appointment. Where's Draco?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Quite the demanding little witch, aren't you? If my memory serves me correctly, which I assure you it does, _I_ am the Head of this family. As such, if I wish to see you, I hardly need an appointment. You'll come when called and you'll do so quickly and without complaint," he stated calmly. "You married Draco and, therefore, have responsibilities that should be your topmost priority. Are you with child yet?"

She blinked. "Pardon?"

Lucius gave a patient sigh. "You're not daft, girl. Are you pregnant?"

"No, I'm not," she told him. At his disgruntled look, she huffed. "It's not from lack of trying, I assure you."

"Then perhaps you should try harder," he suggested. "Draco has mentioned various projects you wish to complete and, while I commend you on your efforts, it might be more beneficial for you to allow Draco to take on some of the load. Once you have a child, it will be difficult for you to juggle the child with a career. Draco mentioned to me that your birthday falls on the 19th of September. If you would like your parents to attend, my advice would be for you to send off that package we spoke of earlier. Also, Narcissa will be preparing for Samhain in October. As Draco's wife, you will be required to offer your help and be available when she needs you."

She glared at him and folded her arms across her chest. "I can do all of those whilst still working on my projects. I can even tutor Draco and check his numbers as he learns the family business."

He held a hand up. "You needn't worry about Draco," he told her. "He has been doing quite well under my tutelage."

"Where is he now?" she asked again.

He waved a dismissive hand at the door. "I had him go to the warehouse to check on a new shipment of potion ingredients. We grow many of the things in our own greenhouses, but some of the more… rare ingredients we have to acquire from other places," he explained.

A house elf entered the room carrying a tray of sweetmeats. At the sound, Hermione and Lucius turned their attention to the creature. The elf silently placed the tray on an end table by the fireplace and looked up at the wizard. Lucius gave a single, slight nod, and the elf spoke, "Blinky made sure your liquor cabinet was properly stocked when Blinky learned of your return, Master Lucius. Blinky hopes Master Lucius isn't displeased with the interruption, sir."

"Not at all," the Pureblood wizard stated as he pushed back his chair and stood. "Any word on how much longer until supper is served, Blinky?" he asked as he stepped from behind the desk.

"Supper is right on schedule, sir," the little elf replied.

Lucius nodded as he opened his liquor cabinet and pulled out two glasses. He glanced back at the witch. "Would you care to join me, my dear?" he offered. "It isn't tea, but a finger or two of brandy does help to ease your stress."

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Hermione stood and walked to where he was standing, watching as he poured the drinks. She thought about what Andromeda had said as Lucius handed her one of the glasses. He lifted his own glass and clinked it against hers. "To family," he said and he took a sip of his drink.

"Family," Hermione repeated slowly. She waited a moment, to see if he would have any concerning reaction to the liquid before taking a cautionary sip of her own drink.

He gave a small, satisfied smile and turned to one of the armchairs. Grabbing a sugarplum on his way, he popped the sweetmeat in his mouth and sat, propping his booted feet on the footstool in front of him. He rested his walking stick beside him and watched her. He gently stirred the drink in his hand. "You needn't stand on ceremony, my dear. Please, sit. This Manor is just as much your home as it is mine, even if you refuse to reside in these halls at the moment."

"You do understand why," she commented as she sat across from him.

He gave a quiet nod and took another sip of his drink. "I blamed my father for my mother's death. She died here, in this Manor. For years, I was much like you. Refusing to live in the place where so much heartache existed. It took me a long time to forgive him, and, honestly, it wasn't truly his fault. My mother was responsible for her own choices."

"Malfoys usually aren't at fault for the misfortune of others," Hermione commented scathingly.

"Indeed," the wizard said with a quirk of his brow. "We never do get caught, however, in this case, it really wasn't his fault. She chose to ride alone without her wand." He pinched his lips together for a moment and turned his attention to the drink in his hand. "It is a husband's responsibility to protect his wife, always. They are one mind, one heart, one soul, bound together both in love and trust. They work together to achieve one another's dreams." He glanced up at her. "This is why I suggested allowing Draco to help you with your projects. I've looked over your proposals and I will tell you, they'll never pass without the proper supports. Equal rights for Muggle borns and Half-bloods? Rights for house elves, werewolves, and other creatures? These can all be possible, if you take the proper measures."

She smiled. "I know," she said, holding her head up proudly. "Did you think I wanted to marry Draco just because he is handsome and I love him? He's also the son of one of the most ruthless men in politics, did you know? Of course, I didn't know all of that when I first met him, but the name Malfoy is quite infamous and I do love the library. It didn't take me long to learn about the family, but you are an ancient Pureblood family, so I wasn't sure that I would ever get the chance to befriend Draco, much less marry him." She took another sip of her drink. "It was a hopeless fantasy and I never knew how he felt about me. Eventually I gave up, thinking he hated me. I fell in love with Ron." At his scoff, she frowned at the wizard. "I did. I was completely in love with him and even wanted to marry him. With the war, though, came a lot of realizations about him, about myself, and about the world we live in. I was heartbroken when Ron ended our relationship over a bouquet of flowers, however, looking back, it was for the best. Not just because I am in love with Draco, but also because I've realized it never would've worked out between Ron and me. He needs someone who can baby him. Someone who gives in easily to his demands and stays home. Someone more like his own mum." She shook her head and sighed. "I'm more interested in my career. Raising a family is great, but there are things I want to do, things that need to be done." She glanced up into Lucius's eyes. "That war never should have happened and it's my duty to the Wizarding World to ensure it never happens again. Our future depends upon it."

Lucius had remained quiet during her small speech, a soft smile playing on his lips as his eyes glittered with calculation. "Has anyone ever told you that you are very Slytherin?" he asked. "In fact, if you had even an ounce of magical blood that is the House you probably would have ended up in."

"The Sorting Hat originally wanted to put me in Ravenclaw," she told him.

His smile widened slightly. "Yes. More than likely because Slytherin doesn't allow Muggle borns," he commented.

"Draco did," she said. "He told me I should have been in Slytherin, though, I was very happy in Gryffindor. I've given that thought, too, and I do believe I was meant to be in Gryffindor," she admitted. "If I hadn't been, I never would've become friends with Harry and we never would have defeated Voldemort. He's like the brother I never had and I love him as such."

He tilted his head in acceptance. "I am aware, my dear. All I ask is that you don't let your loyalties to Mr. Potter come between or before your loyalties to our family."

"They won't," she stated, shaking her head. "I know my priorities, Mr. Malfoy, and I know they have changed with my marriage to your son. I hope you realize that he supports me in my endeavours?"

"As he should," Lucius responded. "It is a husband's obligation to indulge in his wife's desires and passions as it is a wife's obligation to do the same for her husband. Don't think I haven't noticed you've fallen into calling me 'Mr. Malfoy' again."

Hermione frowned. "I wasn't aware you didn't like being called that and I know you despise it when I call you 'Father'."

"I don't despise it," he told her. "It is taking some getting used to, but time will make it easier, my dear. As for calling me 'Mr. Malfoy', I do believe we are past that by now, wouldn't you agree? If you were merely dating my son, that would be understandable, however, you are not only married to my son, but you're currently sitting in my study alone with me." His eyes narrowed and she saw something there that she hadn't before. She didn't know what it was, but it made her suddenly uncomfortable.

Hermione shifted in her seat as realization began to dawn on her. Her eyes widened and he smirked. "As I've said, my dear, you needn't worry about what I may or may not do with you," he told her as he caught the underlying fear in her eyes. "If you would like, you are more than welcomed to finish your drink and eat some of the sweets Blinky had brought for us. They haven't been poisoned or drugged."

She blushed and glanced down at her glass. "It wasn't my intention to cause you to think…" She shook her head and held it up and proud. "I am not much into drinking, Father. As for the sweets, you do know my parents were dentists. As such, I never had much growing up and don't really indulge in them now. If you took my polite refusal as any sort of belief that I may think them altered, then I apologize. That wasn't my intent." As if to prove her point, she finished the drink in one go and placed the empty glass on the end table. "I don't fear you, Father. I may have as a child, but not anymore."

He gave her a soft smirk and inclined his head. "Be sure to inform me when they decide to come," he said. "If we are to reverse that spell, I'll need them here. Also, I know they are aware of your powers. After their memories are restored, Narcissa will add them to our list of party invitees unless you tell her otherwise."

"I will keep that in mind, though I don't see why I would tell her otherwise," she commented as she plucked a sweet from the tray. Her eyes flashed in defiance as she popped the candy in her mouth and stared at him.

He chuckled as he leaned over and did the same.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yes, I know. I didn't make Draco out to be this incredible sex god that so many people write him as. Doesn't mean he won't become one, but honestly, aside from the first four or five years of school, when did he really have time for all of that? Not to mention, even those first four or five, you have to think about how much studying he did or actual work he put into school. Regardless of what other people may say, the way he's written in the actual books leads me to believe that he would have studied just as hard as Hermione. He would have to if he wanted to try and top her in class. And the way I like to write him, personally, he would be studious. His father would never approve of anything less than the best from his son.

**SereniteRose**: I really do appreciate that you loved the chapters. Ginny's going to come around, eventually, but she is dealing with some of her own problems. It might even be that she was already upset when she spied Lucius. (wrong time, wrong place sort of thing.) As for Ron, well... Yeah. We'll leave it at that.

**LanaLee1:** Yeah. As I told Rose, there's a lot of things going on with Ginny that haven't been revealed yet mostly because, this story is centered around Draco and Hermione and is told from their points of view. However, you will learn more in the chapters to come. I like having layers to the characters, too. Lucius isn't a wholly evil character as people make him out to be. Family comes first to him, as indicated in this chapter. He became sidetracked with Voldemort, but now you'll get to see him as he's meant to be. (At least in my headcanon.)

**SmileSimplify**: Lucius, Lucius. Always getting blamed for things like snooping into his son's wedding room... *Giggles* Hermione is finally realizing everything that has been happening for this entire month. As I've stated before, it's been a whirlwind for the girl. Draco never answered her questions about his intentions, at least not the way she wanted. Of course, now that they are married, the point is pretty moot, but, meh. She's still a 20 year old girl with a lot of raw emotions. Just so you know, I have no intentions of having this story go macabre. ;)

**Hera**: Oooo! I love me some questions! :-D Does it matter if the person being forgiven doesn't really feel much regret? Forgiveness, to me, isn't about how the forgiven feels as much as it is how the person forgiving feels, if that makes sense. Ginny forgiving Lucius isn't about whether or not Lucius actually regrets his actions. It's about bringing peace to Ginny. It's about helping Ginny move past what has happened so she can heal. Because, let's face it. Yeah, Lucius gave her that book. Yes, she wrote in it and was lured. But at the end of the day, who do you think Ginny really blames for it? Lucius didn't tell her to write in the diary. In fact, she could have easily tossed the book like bad rubbish. Hell, Arthur even reprimanded _Ginny_ for writing in the book. So, no. Forgiveness has nothing to do with whether Lucius feels remorse. It's about Ginny coming to terms with a mistake _she_ made, accepting it, and moving on.

Your second question is about whether Hermione will ever forgive Ron. That one is a little bit trickier. Remember. Draco doesn't like Ron. Yes, he "got the girl" in the end, but he still has that jealousy towards Ron. So it's not so much if Hermione will ever forgive Ron as it is if Draco will ever _let_ her forgive Ron.


	26. Chapter 26

"Oh God! Oh yes! Oh, oh, oh!" Hermione shouted as Draco pounded into her.

His trousers were pooled around his ankles and her skirt was hiked up around her waist. He had her sitting on the very edge of the dining room table as he fucked her mercilessly. Their lips would crash and then break away as she threw her head back and held his shoulders as though her life depended on it. It probably did, too, as she was nearly falling off the table. At one point, her legs had been wrapped securely around his waist, but not so much anymore. Draco had clumps of her skirt clenched in his fists as he thrust into her over and over again.

"Do it, love," he growled. "Come for me."

The Gryffindor screamed and she fell back onto the table. Draco came with a grunt and a snarl. As he emptied his seed into her, he slumped over her. "This," he panted, "this… is how… we should… spend our lunches together."

She chuckled. "I think your father would be peeved if we did that."

He groaned as he pulled out of her. Taking a deep breath, he sighed. "Perfect way to end a moment, love," he joked. "Just mention my father."

She grinned. "Well, you are learning the trade, aren't you? If he found out you were shagging your wife instead of focusing on your work…"

"He'd want to know when the baby is due," the blond wizard retorted. He bent down to pick up his trousers and refasten them.

She sat up on the table, allowing her skirt to fall over her knees. "I swear that man's baby fever is worse than ours," she huffed. "He asks me almost daily if I'm pregnant, did you know? Of course, your mum isn't much better. I…"

At that moment an owl flew into the dining room and deposited a letter into Hermione's lap. It didn't stay for a response, which the Muggle born found odd. Draco frowned, "Probably from Father, wanting to know where I am."

"That wasn't an eagle owl," the witch commented as she glanced down at the letter. She immediately recognized the messy handwriting. "It's from Harry!"

Sliding off of the table, Hermione opened the letter, it hadn't even been sealed – she would have to talk to him about that – and read the contents. Her hand flew to her chest. "Oh, no! Ginny!"

She flew past her husband to the stairs, pulling out her wand in the process. "Hermione?" Draco questioned, following after her. "What is it, love?"

Fear filled her eyes as she summoned her cloak. "Ginny's been brought to St. Mungo's," she told him.

Draco frowned. "What for?"

She shook her head. "Harry didn't really say." She handed him the letter. "You can read it."

As Hermione's cloak drifted down the stairs, she snatched it up and threw it over her shoulders. Draco scanned over the contents of the letter and, for a moment, he actually felt concerned. Sure, Draco did not get along with or even particularly like the Potters, but that didn't mean he wanted anything to happen to them.

"I'm going with you," he told her, summoning his own cloak.

The Muggle born gave him an appreciative smile and nod. "Thank you," she said and taking the hand he offered, they Apparated on the spot.

(II)(II)

They stopped at the front desk and the receptionist glanced up at them. "May I help you?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, we're looking for Ginny Potter. She was brought here moments ago…"

"Down the hall to the left," the receptionist said with an air of boredom.

"Thank you," Hermione said as she began walking down the hall.

Draco kept pace with his wife, staring at her confusedly. "Did you hear how she spoke to you?" he asked a bit affronted.

"Right now, I don't really care," she told him. "My main concern is Ginny."

They rounded the corner and several Weasleys were sitting in the waiting room. Molly was the first to spot the Malfoys and quickly walked up to them, throwing her arms around Hermione. For a moment, the two just held one another, Molly's face buried in Hermione's hair. The Muggle born whispered soothing words to the woman she had always loved.

For his part, Draco stood to the side a bit awkwardly as Arthur Weasley approached him. Draco held himself proudly, doing his best not to come off too disdainful. "I do hope everything turns out alright, Mr. Weasley," he said, breaking the silence.

Arthur looked tired and it was the first time Draco realized just how old the man was. "So do I, Mr. Malfoy," he responded. "As soon as we heard, we came as quickly as we could. Harry hasn't come out yet so we're not sure what's going on."

Molly pulled out of the embrace, but did not let go of Hermione. Instead, she absentmindedly, played with the Muggle born's hair as she added, "I tried to go in, but they wouldn't let me. Said I wasn't allowed."

"Who's with her besides Harry?" Hermione asked, looking between the two.

"Ron," Arthur answered. "He was there when it happened. He tried to stop it. He did manage to soften her fall, thankfully, but falling from that high up…"

Hermione nodded. She remembered when Harry had fallen off of his broom back during their second year. "What are her injuries? Do we know?"

"A broken tibia, a few cracked ribs, and a shattered wrist," George told her as he joined his parents. "But that's not the worst part."

"She's pregnant," Draco commented.

Hermione gasped as she stared at her husband. "What?"

He shrugged. "Why do you think she wanted to just drink water at the wedding? What was she doing playing a game while pregnant?" he asked, frowning at Arthur.

The man shook his head. "She wasn't playing a game," he answered. "They were just practicing."

"Yeah, but that doesn't really make it any better," Percy said, leaning against one of the waiting room chairs. "What's the point of practicing if she can't even play?"

"Exactly," Draco agreed. "Potter should have taken her broom…"

The blond wizard stopped as the door to the ER opened and Ron walked out looking haggard and disbelieving. Tears were in his eyes, but had yet to fall. As soon as she saw him, Molly abandoned Hermione to hug her son. It was then that he finally began to cry.

No one said anything, though Draco could see they were all fearfully watching the youngest of the male Weasleys. He drew his wife to him, embracing her so that he could be prepared for whatever the ginger said.

"Ron?" Hermione whispered, just loud enough so he could hear her.

He glanced up at the Muggle born and she could see how broken he was in that moment. "She… lost it," he managed to choke before grabbing his mother tighter to him.

The Weasleys gathered around the mother and son with tears in their eyes. Hermione buried her face in Draco's chest and cried. He didn't say anything, just held his wife, rubbing her back in an effort to comfort her.

Potter entered the room then and, pulling away from Draco, Hermione hugged her friend. "Oh Harry," she cried. "Oh, God, Harry."

The bespectacled man wrapped his arms around the only sister he had ever known and held her. "I know," he whispered to her.

The moment Molly heard his voice, she pulled away from the Weasleys long enough to draw the two dark haired people into the group. Draco stood there, unmoving. It was an awkward situation for the blond wizard, but he was there to support his wife, so he stayed. After what seemed like an eternity, the Weasleys finally pulled apart.

That was when Hermione asked Ron, "So, what happened?"

He shook his head. "I'm still not entirely sure," he told her. "They were running through their usual routines, tossing the Quaffle, etc. Then this Bludger came out of nowhere and hit her smack in the side. I did what I could to stop her fall, but…"

"Why didn't anyone go to help her?" Hermione questioned.

Again, Ron shook his head. "I don't think they saw her. Once she had tossed the Quaffle, everyone was heading towards the goals. You know how brutal Quidditch practice can be at times."

"Yes, it's almost as bad as playing the game itself," the Muggle born sniffed. "What was she doing up there, knowing she was pregnant?" She had rounded on Harry when she had asked this, but the black haired man just shrugged.

"Hell if I know," he said. "You know how hard headed she can be. She didn't want to stop going to practice, even though I warned her about the dangers. Said she had a handle on it."

"Well, we see how well that worked out for her," Draco snarked, looking annoyed.

All eyes turned to the Pureblood and Harry frowned. "Normally she does well. They weren't even supposed to be practicing with the Bludgers today."

"They weren't," Ron agreed. "No idea where that thing came from, because both of the Bludgers the Harpies own were still in the box."

Draco sighed. "There are rules for a reason," he said. "'No woman should be on the field if she is with child.'"

"'With child'," Ron repeated. "That phrase is so outdated I swear my Auntie Muriel doesn't even use it."

The blond's eyes narrowed. "I was quoting from the actual rulebook, you twit. If it's found out that she was even practicing while knowing she was pregnant, the Harpies could be put out for the entire season," he growled.

"Again. Outdated, ferret," Ron spat. "She's allowed to practice. They just aren't allowed to use Bludgers, which they didn't."

"So, you're saying that someone had released a Bludger without anyone's knowledge?" Draco asked, folding his arms.

"Oh, look! He does have a brain underneath all that white hair," the ginger haired wizard declared sarcastically.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"Where's your proof?" Draco asked, ignoring the jibe.

"What? That you have a brain?" Ron questioned with a smirk.

The blond Slytherin rolled his eyes. "I was talking about the Bludger, but if you'd like to question my intelligence, we could do that another day. Right now, my concern is your sister and how an unknown Bludger entered the field. Where is the proof that the Bludger wasn't one from the Harpies?" he glanced at Harry. "Did they manage to capture it?"

The bespectacled man nodded. "It's being tested as we speak," he explained.

"Why do you care anyway?" Ron asked, earning a slap upside the head from his mother.

Draco stared at the freckled man for a long moment. "I care because my _wife_ cares. Or have you forgotten that _I_ married Hermione?" he hissed. He remained as calm and cool as he could, not allowing the ginger haired man to anger him too much. "Mrs. Potter is one of my wife's closest friends, next to Potter. They're like sisters."

"Oh, Draco, you are such a loving husband," Molly gushed, then glared at her own son, popping him again. "You would do well to learn how to be a better brother and friend, Ronald Weasley. He's showing concern for your sister, who cares why?"

George shrugged. "If anything, I would've thought the opposite," he commented. "Especially given how she acted at his wedding." He glanced at Hermione. "No hard feelings?"

The Muggle born gave the wizard a soft smile. "Of course not, George." She glanced at Harry. "When will we be allowed to see her?"

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "The healers will let us know," he told her. "They might keep her for a day or two for observation, but her bones are healing well."

Hermione nodded. "Have they said anything about… well…?" She pressed a hand to her stomach and Harry gave a nod in understanding.

"She'll still be able to have children," he told her and there was an echo of relief through the Weasleys. "Though, it might not be for a while. She'll certainly need therapy."

The Muggle born raised an eyebrow and gave a bitter smile. "Don't we all?"

"Heh… Yeah," Harry replied and fell exhaustedly in a chair. "I'm just glad that she's ok."

Hermione joined him, sitting in the chair beside him. "Have you heard from the owner of the Harpies yet?"

"Oh, yeah. She's been by," he told her. "That reminds me, I need to send her an owl with an update. She said that if the baby survives, then Ginny will need to sit out the rest of the season; no practicing. However, since the baby didn't survive…"

"You're not honestly considering the idea of allowing her to continue to play?" Draco asked, his eyes widened in surprise.

Harry snorted. "I'd like to see the bloke who tries to stop her," he said. "Ginny's a stubborn witch and, if she wants to play, you can bet your last Knut that she's going to play."

"That stubbornness almost got her killed," Draco pointed out.

"Try telling her that," Harry said with a look to Hermione.

The Muggle born rolled her eyes as Draco responded coolly, "That's not my responsibility."

"Merlin's beard, Hermione," Ron stated. "You left me for this joker?"

Hermione glared at the redhead. "I didn't leave you, Ronald," she said. "You left me. Remember?"

He shrugged. "True, but I also didn't get with some Slytherin creep a day after."

"Weren't you shagging some slag before you broke it off with Hermione?" George asked as Percy asked, "Aren't you dating that Greengrass girl?"

Ron's face turned almost the shade of his hair as Draco's eyes glittered maliciously. "Astoria Greengrass?" the blond asked curiously as he glanced at the older Weasley.

Percy nodded thoughtfully. "Though I do think it's the same girl George is talking about."

Draco's chest filled with giddiness, but he kept it from showing as he casually stated, "My father had wanted me to marry her, but I wasn't interested. So glad you managed to pick up my trash, Weasel."

Ron pulled out his wand and pointed at Draco as Hermione grabbed Draco's sleeve and tugged at it. "Draco!" she reprimanded. "This is not the place."

He stared at her hand for a moment before looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. "He's the one who started it," he said.

Harry stood and blocked Ron's path. "Let me at him, Harry," the redhead snarled, glaring at the blond wizard.

"Ronald Weasley, put your wand away. This is a hospital, not a pub," Molly scolded as she turned to George and Percy, "And you two would do well not to antagonize your brother."

"I wasn't antagonizing him," Percy defended. "I simply pointed out a fact."

The Weasley matron glared at her son. "Percy Ignatius Weasley, you deliberately handed over information of your brother to the very man you know he doesn't care for, thereby adding fuel to the flames." She glanced at Draco. "I'm sorry, my dear, but it is true."

He gave her a slight nod of acceptance. "It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you."

Hermione tugged at his sleeve again. "We're leaving," she told him and turned to Harry. "You'll send word when she's better?"

Harry nodded. "And I'll let her know you came."

"Thank you, Harry," she said, pulling more insistently on Draco. "Let's go."

He allowed her to pull him, watching the ginger through narrowed eyes as they began walking. There were a million and one things Draco wanted to say, but he didn't. Suddenly, he stopped, grabbed Hermione's wrist, and pulled her to his chest. She opened her mouth to protest and he kissed her. The kiss was deep, full of passion and need. Turning her slightly, Draco opened his eyes and, still kissing her, he stared at Ron.

The youngest son of Arthur made to lunge at Draco, and it took both of his brothers and Harry to stop him. "You'll pay for that, Malfoy!" he shouted.

Breaking the kiss, Draco glanced down at the shocked face of his wife. "Let's go home," he said with a smirk.

Then, taking her hand into his, he walked with her towards the entrance of the hospital.

(III)(III)

Hermione yanked her hand out of Draco's the moment they entered the Manor. "I can't believe you did that!" she hissed.

He shrugged as he walked over to the wet bar and poured himself a finger of firewhiskey. "Why?" he asked calmly as he turned to look at her.

"Why? Draco, you embarrassed me in front of everyone!"

"Not everyone," he corrected. "It was just the Weasleys and Potter."

"The Weasleys and Potter who are my friends and family," she snapped. "I bend over backwards to try and get along with your family and friends. The least you can do is show me the same curtesy."

He pointed at the door. "That Weasel is not your friend!" he growled. "He cheated on you, Hermione. He cheated on you and then left you the moment it was convenient for him. How much do you want to wager he'd been shagging Greengrass the entire time you two dated?"

The Gryffindor shook her head and sat down at the bar. Silently, she commended Draco for his protectiveness. However, "Today isn't about my relationship, or lack thereof, with Ron. Ginny's in St. Mungo's, but instead of focusing on that, both of you decided to make it into 'who can give the best cheap shot' competition! I get it, Draco. You married me. You won! Why can't we just drop it and move on? What do you have against him so badly that you have to throw it in his face every time? Why do you hate him so much?"

His eyes narrowed. "That night you came down by the lake," he said. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want to make you more upset. You were already cursing Weasel's very existence, but you were also crying. I saw the tear tracks, Hermione. Then in sixth year, I may have been preoccupied, but I'm not an idiot. I saw him with that Brown girl and I saw how it affected you." He took a deep breath. "I knew you were crying over him, though I didn't witness it first-hand." He looked at her, then, meeting her large brown eyes. "And then just recently in the Ministry, the way he spoke to you… Let me ask you a question, love. In all the years we were at Hogwarts, have I ever made you cry?"

She pinched her lips as she thought it through. "No, but you tried to," she answered. "That day in our second year on the Quidditch pitch. You had called me a Mudblood with the intent of hurting my feelings, but I didn't know what the word meant, so it didn't bother me like you thought it would."

He frowned as he tried to remember that day. Realization made him nod silently. "It wasn't the last time I used that word in reference to you," he admitted.

She shook her head. "No, it wasn't. You said it again our third year, but it had just as much of an affect."

He glanced up at her again and lifted a hand to touch her cheek. "I can't say I never used that word again. Nor can I say I never used it in reference to you," he told her truthfully. "What I can say is that I never meant it after that year. In all honesty, it's possible I didn't mean it when I said it the first time…" He thought about it and shook his head. "No, that's not entirely true. I knew what the word meant, even if I didn't understand the significance of it."

"The war brought out the worst in all of us," Hermione said, staring at the bar.

"It did," he concurred. "But I'm talking about after the war, too. Before you and I married." When she glanced up at him in bewilderment, he explained, "I had to figure out how to convince my mother to allow the marriage. I knew that if I seemed too excited, she would suspect something was up. So, I gave her the impression that I wasn't thrilled with the idea."

"And you called me a Mudblood to emphasize your point," she surmised.

He closed his eyes and nodded. "It's one of the many things I hate about myself, Hermione. What I've done…"

"You didn't answer my question," she commented causing him to open his eyes and look at her. "Why do you hate Ron so much?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Because he made you cry," he answered simply. "He made you cry so many times and you still tried to make things work with him." He shook his head. "I may be a fool in thinking that you somehow deserve me, but you certainly did not deserve him."

"What makes you think I don't deserve you?" she asked.

In response, he placed his hand over his left arm, covering his Mark and looked away from her. "No one deserves me. Not really."

Hermione had seen Draco's depression and regret before and every time, she felt pity for him, though she didn't say so. She knew he wouldn't appreciate it. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and touched the hand covering the Mark. "I have scars of my own," she said as she lifted her hand to uncover the mark Bellatrix had made on her arm.

He took a deep breath and glanced at the mark. "I wish I had had the courage to force her to stop," he whispered, his voice thick with remorse. "If Dobby hadn't been there, she would have killed you."

"Do you really hate Dobby? Even now knowing the sacrifice he had made?"

He touched her cheek. "Not really," he admitted. "I never did care for the elf, but hate is such a strong word. Too strong for someone like him."

She gave a small smile and nodded her agreement. A large eagle owl swooped into the room then and dropped a letter on the bar. It then landed next to them and screeched.

"Oi! Bloody owl!" Draco cursed, glaring at the creature angrily.

Hermione picked up the letter and, breaking the seal, opened it and read aloud:

_Draco,_

_Your mother has asked me if you and Hermione would like to join us for supper tonight. It will be at the usual time. Please send your response with Hercules._

_Your Father_

The Muggle born glanced up at her husband. "Should we go?" she asked.

Draco shrugged. "If you want to," he said. "We'll need to get dressed properly, though. Father does not like us wearing our casuals to supper, even if it's at home."

The witch nodded. "Yes, your mother told me as much before," she admitted. "Well, if we're going, we better get ready."

(IV)(IV)

They arrived precisely two minutes before their scheduled time. Draco proudly excused the "lateness" with "we're just an Apparation away" while Hermione shook her head, secretly knowing the real reason they were late. The Muggle born glanced at Lucius who was giving her a look that told her that he, too, knew the real reason. She blushed furiously.

"You would never know we were ever in a war the way many people go about their business," Narcissa commented as they sat down at the dining table.

Lucius nodded. "No doubt they are trying to forget, my dear," he said as a goblet of wine appeared in front of him.

Hermione picked up her own goblet and gave it a cautionary sip. She licked her lips curiously and sipped it again.

"Is the wine to your liking, pet?" Lucius asked, looking at the girl.

"I'm not your pet," was the automatic reply. The Gryffindor witch nodded then. "It's fine. I just… It has a very smooth taste."

He smiled. "I take that to mean it meets your approval?"

The newest Malfoy gave a nod and offered him a soft smile in response. "Was it made here?" she asked curiously.

"Naturally," Lucius said as the first course appeared on their plates.

"Everything is made here," Draco told her. "The wine, the food… We take pride in what we produce and don't often indulge in that which is not ours."

Hermione smirked. "Yet, we've been to restaurants, you and I."

"I said 'often'," he pointed out. "There are occasions when it is fitting, but for the most part…"

Hermione glanced down at her plate, surprised to see three stuffed… mushrooms? At least, she thought it was mushrooms. As she wondered how she was mean to eat them, she saw Draco pick one up from his plate and pop it in his mouth. Expecting him to be chastised, the Muggle born was baffled as she watched his parents do the same. Shrugging, she picked up a mushroom herself and bit into it. She wasn't expecting fresh out of the oven heat, though, and covered her mouth with her hand to keep from spitting it out. Keeping her mouth closed, her shoulders wracked with her coughing as she quickly chewed and swallowed the mushroom.

Draco looked at her with concern and patted her back. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Her eyes watered as she tried to bring her coughing under control and she nodded. She took her napkin and dabbed at her mouth. She took several breaths before picking up her glass of wine and sipping it. She gave her husband a sheepish smile as she explained, "I wasn't expecting it to be hot."

He cocked his head to the side and looked down at his plate. "The elves didn't put jalapenos in this, did they?" he asked his father.

"No, no," Hermione said, letting out a small giggle. "I mean it's very fresh."

It was Lucius's turn to look at the girl curiously. "Are you not used to dining on fresh food?"

She sighed. "I am, though it's usually the entrée that's fresh, not the appetizer. It just caught me off guard, is all. I'm fine now," she told them.

Draco rubbed her back once more and, assured that she would be alright, he turned back to his own plate. Hermione took a deep breath as she looked down at the other two mushrooms. She didn't really get the chance to taste that first one and she was determined she would taste these. Mustering up her Gryffindor courage, the young witch picked up the second mushroom and, blowing on it a bit, placed it in her mouth. She chewed carefully, not wanting this one to burn her mouth as the other had done. It was an interesting taste for the Muggle born. A mixture of mushroom, cheese, onions, and something else that she couldn't place, but decided she liked. Once she was finished with that one, the last was much easier to get through and relatively enjoyable.

Once the Malfoys were done with their appetizers, small bowls of scented water appeared before them. Hermione glanced at Draco to see him dip his fingers in his bowl and wipe them on his napkin. She was quick to mimic the Pureblood.

It wasn't that Hermione had never experienced fine dining. Indeed, her parents had often taken her to high class restaurants, but she had never experienced this kind of dining with the Malfoys. She knew this wasn't the norm, though she had no idea of the reasoning behind it. Once their hands were properly cleaned, the bowls disappeared and four plates of steaming shrimp scampi appeared before them. Hermione's mouth watered at the sight and smell.

Again, she glanced at Draco, waiting for his unspoken signal. As he picked up his fork, however, the most unusual ringing filled the room. Startled, he dropped his fork. For their part, the two older Malfoys remained calm, though they looked at Hermione. The Muggle born blushed.

"Sorry!" she piped as she took her wand out of her pocket. She scooted her chair back and stood. It did not escape her notice that both Malfoy men stood as well, but she didn't pay them much mind as she drew a phone in the air and grabbed it. The phone continued to ring as she walked quickly out of the room and answered it. She didn't see the other Malfoys follow her.

"Malfoy Estates and Corporations," she greeted into the receiver. "This is Hermione Malfoy speaking, how may I direct your call?"

The voice that came from the other end was one she hadn't heard in years. Closing her eyes, Hermione sat down on the arm of a chair as she heard, "Yes, this is Wendell Wilkins speaking. My wife and I received a package this morning from your estate stating that we won a six day, seven night stay at the Malfoy Manor…"

Hermione nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "Yes, Mr. Wilkins, congratulations."

"We never entered any contest, Ms. Malfoy," he stated.

The Muggle born frowned and, propping the fake phone up to her ear with her shoulder, she wiggled her fingers in front of herself as though she were typing. "Are you sure?" she asked, sounding confused. "Our records indicate that you entered on the 5th of June. At least, that is when we received your entry."

"What was the contest?" he questioned.

"Oh! Well, the contestant had to write an essay on why they love the English countryside and why they feel as though they deserve to visit the estate," Hermione explained. She noticed Draco leaning against the doorframe and gave him a nod before turning her attention back to the "phone".

"But we never wrote any essay," the man on the other side of the phone told her.

Hermione shrugged. "Perhaps a relative or a friend entered for you?" she suggested.

"Perhaps," he conceded. Hermione heard another voice in the background and she choked.

Biting back her tears, the witch nodded again. "So, should we be expecting you, Mr. Wilkins?" she asked.

"What exactly is Malfoy Estates and Corporations?" he queried.

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure you read through the package, sir, but it's over two hundred acres of lush, fertile English land. During your stay here, you'll be treated to a tour of our vineyards and a behind-the-scenes tour of our warehouses and factory lines. You'll dine on the most exquisite cuisine served with the freshest of ingredients cultivated from our very own gardens. You'll be pampered by our professionally trained staff treating you to relaxing massages and a spa treatment."

"Yes, I read all of this in the brochure," he told her. "That still does not tell me what exactly it is that you produce. I even tried searching for your corporation online, but found nothing. It's almost like you don't exist."

Hermione silently cursed to herself. She knew she had forgotten something. She glanced at Draco angrily and, folding his arms, he lifted an eyebrow at her. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "Yes, sir," she said. "We're currently renovating the website and so had to take the old one down. It should be up in a few days."

"Can we be giving a few days to think about it?" he asked and Hermione smiled in relief.

"Yes, of course, sir," she told him. "And I'll be here to answer any questions you may have. Please, feel free to call us at any time. Our number is available 24 hours."

"Fair enough," the voice on the other end said. "Thank you, Ms. Malfoy."

Hermione smiled as her eyes watered up. "It is my pleasure, sir, and thank you. I hope to hear from you soon."

As soon as he had hung up, Hermione's "phone" had disappeared. She sat there for a moment, staring at nothing, as she tried to pull herself back together. She had heard her father's voice. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to the heavens above that he would call again, this time to make arrangements. She was so close to getting her family back.

She opened her eyes and looked back at Draco. She gave him a watery smile before standing up and approaching him. She wrapped her arms around him and began crying when she felt him do the same. They held one another, Hermione softly crying into his chest, for a long time, neither daring to move.

"Hermione, darling," Narcissa finally said, breaking the silence, "your food will grow cold if you don't return to finish eating."

Nodding silently, the Muggle born straightened and turned back to the dining room.

"They'll come home," Draco murmured into her ear reassuringly.

"I hope so," the young witch said sadly.

Draco frowned. "Hey," he whispered, stopping her and turning her to face him. He lifted her chin up so he could look her in the eye. "I won't have that, princess," he warned. "None of this moping around. You'll see them again and one day, you'll even get the chance of calling them 'Mum and Dad' again."

She smiled softly at him. "You don't know how much it meant to hear his voice again. After so long…"

He lifted an eyebrow. "How do you think I felt when I saw my father again?" he asked. "I'm not exactly an unfeeling person, love. Trust me. I know how much that meant to you just now. And I know how much it will mean to you when we finally have them back."

He kissed her gently on the lips. "Come on. Chin up, shoulders back, and show us some of that Malfoy confidence I know you have."

She giggled. "I'm only a Malfoy through marriage," she argued.

He smirked as he pulled her chair out for her. "Give me a bit longer, princess," he whispered suggestively. "Soon you'll have a little Malfoy inside you."

Hermione's eyes widened as Lucius gave a loud sniff. Narcissa had her hand to her chest, looking mortified. "Draco Lucius! How dare you speak of such things at the table! I know your father and I raised you better than that!" she scolded.

Baffled, Draco moved to his own seat. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" he asked curiously.

"I think you know what she is talking about quite well, son," Lucius said as he lifted his glass and took a sip. "It is inappropriate to speak of what goes on behind closed doors."

Both of Draco's eyebrows shot past his hairline and his cheeks flushed bright pink. "What goes on…? Good God! I was talking about a baby, not _that_! I have better sense than to bring those things out to the open. I'm not some two Knut pauper."

Hermione's cheeks reddened and she bowed her head, but neither of the older Malfoys seemed the least bit remorseful for their outbursts. "You'll apologize to your mother," Lucius said as he stabbed a bit of shrimp with his fork. "And next time, you'll be more obvious with your words."

The younger wizard glowered, "I'm sorry, Mother… that your mind immediately went there," he added after a pause. He picked up his own fork and began tangling some linguine into it. "It's not my fault that your mind was in the gutter."

Lucius slammed his fork on the table, causing it to shake slightly. He stood and leaned forward. "Your behaviour is inappropriate and I will not tolerate it. Do you understand me, boy?"

"Yes, Father," Draco said as he stared at his plate.

"Now. Apologize to your mother again, and this time do it properly," the patriarch ordered.

Draco sighed and looked to his mother. "I'm sorry, Mum. I… I crossed a line and that was wrong of me."

She gave him a single nod. "Apology accepted."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know it's a short chapter (relatively speaking), but I wanted to post it in time for the holidays. I hope all of you have a Merry Christmas. (If you don't celebrate Christmas, then Happy Hanukkah. Happy Winter Solstice, Happy Kwanzaa, or Happy Holidays. .

Love my viewers and reviewers!

I only received one review this time from** SereniteRose**. I have to agree with you on several points. Lucius can be pretty scary, and I'm sure he'll get scarier in coming chapters. But he cares about his family and Hermione is a part of that family now. (As is, wait for it, her parents.) He can be a bit snobbish, but when you're born with a silver spoon in your mouth, the world looks differently. And he was taught as a boy that people will try to take advantage of that wealth. A lesson he learned quite often (especially with Voldemort.) So, if he comes off as an asshole, especially where money is concerned, it's for these reasons. Trust me, Draco can be just as bad. Lol! I, too, like how Lucius and Hermione are getting along, though they both still have a long way to go. Here's hoping they can resolve all of their issues before the baby arrives... (No! NOT a spoiler alert! Hermione is NOT pregnant... yet.)


	27. Chapter 27

Hermione was sitting near the fireplace in her home, her feet tucked under her and a thick volume on her lap, when her wand rang again. Draco spotted the wand and snatched it first, studying it curiously. Hermione jumped up and made to take the wand away from him, but being the taller of the two, the wizard easily kept it out of arms reach.

"How does it do that?" he asked, eying the wand as he turned on the spot to keep her from grabbing it.

"It's a spell," she said as she tried to jump up and get it. "Give me my wand."

He twirled the wand in the air, mimicking the wrist movements Hermione had made a few days ago. When nothing happened, he frowned. "There's an incantation," he observed and he glanced at her.

His arm was just low enough that she was able to grab the wand from him. "There is an incantation," she confirmed him as she drew a phone in mid-air. When she reached for it, he snatched that up as well. "Draco!"

He jumped up on the coffee table and studied the device carefully. "What does this button do?" he asked as he pressed the green button. He heard a voice on the other end and held the phone to his ear… upside down.

"Hello?" he answered.

Hermione glared at him. "You're holding it the wrong way," she growled.

He righted the phone and pressed it against his ear again. "Hello?" he repeated.

The masculine voice on the other end answered, "Hello? Is this Malfoy Estates and Corporation?"

Draco hopped off the table and strode to one of the armchairs. "It is," he told the voice. "This is Draco Malfoy speaking. May I help you?" He fell into the armchair and took his own wand out, drawing random patterns in the air that meant nothing.

"Yes, this is Wendell Wilkins. The other day I spoke to a lady there, a Ms. Hermione Malfoy, about a trip my wife and I had won to visit your estate?"

The Slytherin nodded. "Ah, yes. Hermione had told us you had won," he said, glancing at his wife.

Hermione scowled at him, her hands on her hips as she tapped a foot. He gave her a smirk and winked at her.

"Yes," Wilkins, aka Mr. Granger, said, "And we can come at any time?"

"Of course. The vacation can be done at any time during the year," Draco informed.

He could hear another voice, this one more feminine, speaking hurriedly to the man and tried to listen to what they were saying. After a moment, the man spoke up to Draco again, "Would mid-September be alright? I know it's an odd time of the year, but my wife has been wanting to go to England to watch the changes of the seasons."

The Pureblood smiled. "That would be perfect," he said. "Malfoy Manor during that time of the year is quite beautiful and I doubt your wife will be disappointed."

"Very well. We'll make arrangements with the airline for the 15th of September," Wilkins stated.

A cheshire cat of a smile spread across Draco's face as he nodded. "We look forward to seeing you," he said. They bid their farewells and, like before, as soon as Wilkins hung up, the phone disappeared.

"What is that smile for?" Hermione asked. "What did he say?"

Dusting off his shirt, Draco stood up and walked up to her. "You'll have to teach me that spell sometime, love," he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a soft kiss.

She pushed at him. "I'm not teaching you anything, you prat," she huffed. "You should have let me talk to him."

"You will, love," he assured her, dipping his head so he could tease her neck. "They're coming here"

She tried not to giggle as his nose tickled her. "Did they say when?" she asked.

He slipped his hands under her blouse. "They did."

She pulled away from him to try and catch his eye. "Well? When?"

"When what?" he asked, kissing her jaw and running his hands along her back.

"Draco!" she gasped as she pushed him away again. She reached back for his hands, trying to pull them off of her. "When are they coming?"

He cupped her jaw and kissed her lips tenderly. "They'll come when they said they would," he told her.

Her eyes widened and she scoffed. "You're impossible!" she snapped. "They are my parents. I have a right to know when they are coming."

"And I told you," he surmised, glancing down at her. "They'll come when they said they would come."

"I want to know," she moved to slap his shoulder, but he caught her hand, "when they are," she tried slapping him with her other hand and he caught that one two, "coming! Let me go!" She struggled in his grasp.

"Then don't try to hit me," he said, simply, but his patience was starting to wear. He released her and stepped out of the embrace. "Do you always have to be the insufferable Know-It-All?"

"When it comes to my family, yes," she answered as she straightened her blouse.

He rolled his eyes. "They're my family, too, now, remember?" he said, frowning. "Or have you forgotten that you married me?"

"Of course I didn't forget," she growled. "I would still like to know when they're coming."

He sighed and shook his head. "You're not really one for surprises, are you?" he asked.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she thought on it for a moment. "A surprise is when you pop into my job and offer to take me to lunch," she stated. "I don't mind those surprises."

His eyes narrowed. "You already know I'm going to do that. That's not a surprise," he told her.

"No," she replied. "I don't particularly like surprises. They always turn out poorly."

Draco stared at his wife for a moment, going over what she had just said. Silently, he decided that he would make it his mission to convince her that not all surprises were bad. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he told her. "While I agree that some surprises aren't great, there are some that can be nice."

She sighed. "When I was a little girl, I used to love surprises," she told him, honestly. "My father would tell me we were going on a trip or to see a movie and I would be tickled. Innocent gestures like that are lovely and I do still enjoy opening presents for my birthday and Christmas." She glanced at him. "I was never one of those children to sneak in my parents' bedroom to see if I could discover what they had bought me. But fighting a war takes a toll on a person. Watching friend after friend get blasted away and witnessing the harsh realities of the world aren't exactly surprises I enjoy." She sat down in one of the armchairs.

He nodded as he joined her, sitting in the chair opposite hers. "Christmas was always my favourite holiday," he confessed with a smile. "My parents had to put spells on their hiding spots because I _was_ one of those children who would sneak around to see what I got. Not because I didn't want to be surprised, but because I wanted to play with them."

She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "That does sound like something you would do."

He shrugged. "I was a kid and it was fun," he defended. "And again, I agree with you on the war. Those were tough times, believe me. Christmas that year was the worst, and not because of the lack of presents. Hell, once the Dark Lord returned, life sucked. No matter how hard I tried, at any moment, he could have killed my mother out of spite, or to prove some sadistic point. And when my father had returned from Azkaban, it was even worse. Did you know he had his pet snake actually eat someone right on our dining room table? Professor Burbage…" He stared down at his hands as he remembered the scene and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "I never knew her. Father had thought Muggle Studies was a waste of time and instructed me not to bother with it. But to watch her be eaten… I kept my eyes glued to my hands, but hearing it was just as bad. Mother had the table destroyed."

Hermione's eyes were sprinkled with tears. "I did know her," she told him. "Our third year, I had taken her class. She really was a sweet lady. Very funny and patient. She didn't get upset when I would correct her and, in fact, often would ask for my opinion about things."

His eyes shot up and he stared incredulously at her. "Why in the world would you, a Muggle born, take Muggle Studies?"

She gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged. "I wanted to learn about the Muggle World from a wizarding perspective. It was pretty boring, to be honest, and I only took it that one year."

He shook his head slowly in disbelief. "You'll never cease to amaze me, Hermione," he told her. "You could have all the knowledge in the world and you'll still want to know more."

"No one could have all the knowledge in the world," she commented, rolling her eyes.

(II)(II)

It wasn't until much later after their conversation that Hermione realized Draco hadn't told her when her parents were coming to the Manor. The thought perturbed her, but there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it at the moment as they were both at their respective jobs.

Around noon, she received an owl from Draco letting her know that he would be late for lunch due to some figures he and his father were working on and, "If you want to go ahead and eat without me, love, I will understand. I'll try to be there no later than 2 o'clock, but I can't give you any guarantees. Father's working my bones off. Love always, Draco."

She sighed and glanced at her clock. She wasn't really all that hungry and determined that she could wait until the time he mentioned. A knock on her door caused her to glance up quickly. "Come in!" she called and turned her attention back to the missive she was writing.

Hearing the door open and shut, she said, "Give me a moment to finish this. I think you'll like my new proposal for house elf rights, Draco, it…" she stopped as she glanced up to see, not her husband, but Ron standing there. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you as well," the ginger haired wizard said. "Disappointed?"

She glanced at the clock and saw it was a quarter until two. Turning her attention back to the wizard, she sighed. "Considering the fact that I'm starving and my husband should be here at any moment, yes, I am a bit disappointed. Why are you here, Ronald?"

His eyes narrowed. "So quick to remind me that you're married," he huffed. "I came to tell you that they moved Ginny into a normal room and they are looking to release her in the morning."

The Muggle born tilted her head to the side. "Why couldn't Harry tell me this?"

"Because Harry won't leave her side and they won't allow owls into the hospital," he told her in annoyance.

"Doesn't Percy work here?" she questioned. "Or even Angelina? I'm sure one of them could have given me the message."

His frown deepened. "Is it really so bad to talk to me, Hermione? We used to be friends, or have you forgotten that?"

"I haven't forgotten," she admitted, "but you haven't really acted much like a friend, have you? You've accused me of despicable things, treated my husband with utmost disrespect, and refused to admit that I have moved on! You rarely ever treated me right and when I needed you the most, you weren't there."

"And I apologized all those times," he said.

"No you haven't," she scoffed. "And even the times you have… Look, we all make mistakes. I get that. But there are some things that we just cannot come back from."

"What? Like becoming a Death Eater, perhaps?"

"Stop making this about Draco!" she shouted. "If you're so jealous about him marrying me, then you should have thought about that before you started sleeping around!"

Ron's eyes narrowed as he snarled, "I wouldn't have started sleeping around if you hadn't been such a prude. How long did it take _him_ to get in your pants?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "_If_ you must know, Draco Malfoy is a _gentleman_ and he actually had the decency to _wait_ like I wanted. He never once pressured me into doing something he knew I wasn't ready for."

"So, that's why you got married so quickly," he surmised.

The witch shook her head. "You don't even know what you're talking about," she said, waving a dismissive hand at him. "You make assumptions and just go with it. That's always been your way. Assume and then apologize when your assumption proves wrong. Have you ever thought to just ask before assuming?"

"He's a snake, Hermione," the redhead pointed out. "And worse, he's a Malfoy."

"Yeah, well, you know what?" she snapped. "I'm a Malfoy, too, and I'm proud to be one."

He stared at her. "He's a slimy, no good, Slytherin Death Eater scum, Hermione! He'll use you and…" he stopped as she pointed her wand at him.

"Say one more thing," she challenged him. "That is my husband you're talking about and so help me God, I will not hesitate to hex you if you continue. You only wish you could be half the man he is and you would do well to turn your arse around and leave my office before he gets here."

He held his hands up in surrender, but glared at her angrily. "Ginny's in a normal room at St. Mungo's," he spat. "Visitors can go see her until nine tonight, so if you want to see her, then do it."

The wizard then turned on his heel and walked out right as Draco was walking in. The blond glared at the ginger as Ron pushed past him roughly. Draco did not take his eyes off of the man until Ron had turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

When the blond turned back into the room, he gave his wife a single, quick nod. "He's gone," he told her and watched as she lowered her wand. "What did he want?"

She sighed and plopped down into her chair. "To tell me that Ginny is receiving visitors now. They moved her to a better room," she told him.

He raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't usually cause a person to threaten another with a wand," he commented. "What happened?"

"You didn't listen in?" she asked.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Don't have a reason to, do I? No, Father and I just finished going through the records, looking for errors, so I thought I'd pop in and see how you were faring. I see no reason to spy on my wife. It's not like I have to win your heart," he said, giving her a small smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "He insulted you," she told him. "One day I will need to sit down with Father and find out exactly what happened to drive the Malfoys and Weasleys into such a feud. It really is ridiculous."

Draco gazed at her for a moment in wonder. "Thank you," he said, earning a curious look from Hermione, so he elaborated, "for sticking up for me."

She shook her head. "You're my husband, Draco," she explained. "It would be silly to not defend you, and honestly, the things he accused you of are things from the past."

"Things like what?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She gave him a bored look. "I really don't want to get into this," she told him. "Mostly he wanted to know if we were still friends, but I haven't really forgiven him yet."

"And you shouldn't," he said, sitting up straight. "Look, the bloke cheated on you. And not just once, I wager. Merlin only knows the other things he's done. You can't possibly forget about the Yule Ball or our sixth year."

She frowned as she looked at him. "You are determined, aren't you?" she commented. She sighed as she leaned back in her chair. "Eventually, I will have to forgive him, though."

"No, you don't," he scoffed. "Hermione, he wasn't the best…"

"We've been through a lot together," she said, cutting him off. "You don't know everything that happened during the war or the years before. He's… well, he's a bit like a brother to me. No, no, hear me out. It was a mistake to date him. Whether it was because I actually fancied him or because I felt obligated, I'm not so sure anymore. But he has always been a friend, a good friend." She had a thoughtful expression on her face. "More than likely his concern now has more to do with his protectiveness over anything. He's never had a reason to like you, some of that coming from this old feud, but some of it also coming from the bullying you and your comrades did during our school years. You taking the Dark Mark didn't help matters either."

"You don't expect me to apologize to him for becoming a Death Eater, do you?" he asked, looking almost scandalized.

She gave him a soft smile and shook her head. "No more than if you were to apologize to him for being blond. However, you also don't make it a point to assure him that I'm ok."

"I shouldn't have to," he growled. "You belong to me, not him."

"I don't belong to anyone," she stated simply. "I'm your wife, not your property."

"All the same," he argued. "You're my wife. You married me. If he can't trust your judgement after all these years, that's his problem, not mine."

She glanced at him and sighed. "You do understand why, though?"

"I understand enough," he told her as he walked around the desk and helped her up. He turned her in his arms so her back was facing the desk and pressed her against it. Dipping his head, he whispered in her ear, "I know he'll never make you feel the way I do. He'll never know your soft moans of pleasure or your cries of ecstasy." The blond wizard lifted the Muggle born onto the desk and slipped between her legs. "He'll never touch you as intimately as I have or kiss you in places that are moist and sweet." He pulled away from her slightly so he could gaze into her eyes. "It matters not what he says or does. He'll never have you as I have, nor will he ever love you as much as I do. You are my witch, always have been, from our first kiss under the stars until our last breaths. And even when I am gone from this world, we'll still be together. Never apart, because I found you. It took me long enough, but now that I have you, I am never letting you go."

She had never heard such sincere words before and she stared into his eyes, searching for the deception. When she found none, she licked her lips and lifted a hand to bury in his blond locks. "I love you," she breathed, continuing to look into his eyes.

"And I you," he told her. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her lips and pressed his body against hers. The reaction was instantaneous as she wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her other hand to hold onto his shoulder. He made quick work of his trousers, unzipping them and pulling out his cock. He didn't bother with undressing either of them, just simply pushed her knickers out of the way so he could plunge into her heated wetness.

They both groaned as he entered her completely. Grabbing her hips, he began thrusting into her like an animal starved for attention. Their mouths crashed against one another and she threw back her head, tightening her grip on his hair. "That's it, witch," he growled between thrusts.

His lips latched onto her neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there as he built momentum to his thrusts. He knew they were on a time crunch, but he needed her at that moment. It wasn't long before she was screaming his name and crying out to him to not stop. When he felt her start to shudder, he picked up his speed, wanting to finish with her.

Draco found himself living for these moments. Hermione threw her head back one last time and gave a great scream and he followed her, filling her with his seed. As he climbed down from his high, he rested his forehead against hers and made a silent prayer. _Let this one take. _

They rested for a moment, catching their breaths. Once the world stopped spinning, Draco gently released her, helping her to stand. He then fixed his trousers, tucking himself back in. "Are you alright?" he asked her as he helped her straighten her clothes.

She nodded and, looking at him, gave a breathless laugh. "Your hair," she said, lifting her hands to pat his hair down.

He smirked. "I do believe this is the one time in my life that I really don't give a damn about my hair," he told her, truthfully. He took her by the hand and led her towards the door. "Let's go see that friend of yours, shall we?"

(III)(III)

They stopped by a local flower shop on their way to the hospital because Hermione had insisted. Draco stared uninterestedly at the flowers while his wife seemed to fall in love with every set up there. "Just pick one," he sighed, glancing at a particularly pretty rose bouquet.

"I had a friend once, back during primary school, who could tell you the meaning of every flower in existence," she commented, bending down to smell a lily. She smiled. "What I wouldn't do to have her here with me now."

"Muggle?" he questioned, glancing at her.

The Gryffindor frowned. "Unfortunately," she admitted. "Though I do think I may look in Flourish and Blotts later to see if they have a book about flowers and their meanings. Or perhaps in Muggle London." She turned and saw a rather interesting bouquet filled with deep blue irises and several red tulips. "Oooo! This looks lovely!" She picked it up and turned it around so she could properly look at it. "I wonder if Neville has any books on the subject that I could borrow."

"I'm sure he does, love," the Pureblood wizard stated. "Are you going to go with that one?"

She smirked at him. "Wager you weren't this boring when picking out a bouquet for me," she teased.

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't spend an hour looking for a bouquet either. I knew what I wanted, informed the florist, and allowed her to do her job," he explained.

She sighed. "Alright, fine, but if Ginny doesn't like them, I'm blaming you,' she told him as she strolled past the Slytherin to the checkout counter.

He rolled his eyes as he walked up to the counter and paid for the flowers and vase.

(IV)(IV)

Hermione knocked lightly on the door to the room. "Come in," she heard the melody of her friend's voice chime.

She gave her husband a warning look. "Be nice," she hissed.

His eyebrows furrowed. "I'm always nice," he said, looking a bit annoyed at the notion that he might not be.

As they entered the room, Hermione was not surprised to see dozens of get well gifts scattered all over the place. From balloons and stuffed animals to cards and flowers, there was everything. Harry sat in the chair nearest the bed eating a box of chocolates while Ginny sat up. The ginger haired witch smiled as she saw the Muggle born.

"Hermione!" she said, holding her arms out for her friend.

The bushy haired witch quickly made her way to the bedside and, holding the flowers in one hand, hugged her friend in the other. Harry gently took the flowers away from her allowing the girls to properly embrace one another.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the younger witch. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thanks," the girl replied. "The Healers say I can go home in the morning. I wanted to leave now, but they insisted that I stay for the night. They wanted to make sure everything was fine before they released me. Harry here seems to agree with them." She glanced at her husband and Hermione could tell they had argued about it before she got there.

Harry frowned. "I'm only concerned about your health. What happened was a nasty incident and I want to make sure everything is alright."

"Says the man who's battle dragons and an evil dark wizard," Ginny sniffed, giving Hermione a sidelong glance. She looked a bit beyond Hermione and saw Draco standing there. "You can come in, Malfoy. I'm not going to bite."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure? Last time we spoke you nearly took my head off."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, yes, I meant to apologize to you for that. Between being pregnant, seeing your father, and not being able to drink at all, I think the stress had gotten to me." She gave him a serious look, one that spoke truthfully. "I really am sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to do was ruin your wedding." She turned her attention back to Hermione and added, "Especially since you were marrying the most beautiful Muggle born in the world and my sister."

Hermione blushed. "Am not," she said.

The younger witch huffed and declared, "Name one Muggle born who's prettier than you and I'll call you a liar. So, changing the subject," she giggled, "how is married life? Any buns in the oven yet?"

Hermione blush turned even darker and she shook her head. "Not yet."

"Though it's not for lack of trying," Draco said, earning a glare from Harry. Thankfully, the Slytherin chose to ignore it.

Ginny sighed. "Ah, well. All in good time, yes? We are still young and have loads of time for children."

Harry stepped next to Draco and said out of the corner of his mouth, "They have her on a Pepper-Up Potion. She's been like this for the past hour now."

Draco nodded in understanding as his wife asked, "So any word from the Harpies yet?"

This earned a sour expression from Ginny and the ginger picked up the box of chocolates Harry had abandoned and picked through them. "They benched me," she said as she took one chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

"You do understand why they did that, don't you?" Draco questioned, staring at the witch.

The Pureblooded Gryffindor groaned, "Officially, they said that I wasn't in a fit state to play. That the loss of my child has taken a toll on my body and I need time to recuperate. Unofficially, they're trying to find out who sent that rogue Bludger my way and how it got there with no one knowing."

"You're lucky it didn't kill you," the Slytherin pointed out.

The ginger glared at him. "No, just my baby. Trust me, Malfoy, if I ever find out who killed my baby, I will have them arrested, tried, and thrown into Azkaban for the rest of their lives. I will throw every possible charge at them and not blink an eye."

He nodded. "And you would be well within your right," he said. "Though, it could be a tough case, especially if they didn't know you were pregnant at the time."

"You don't really read the paper much, do you?" she asked. "My pregnancy made headline news last week when I finally began to tell people about it. If they didn't know about the pregnancy, then they were living under a rock. Or just getting married," she added with a smirk.

Draco glanced at the raven haired man. "Have you any leads?" he questioned.

"There are several," Harry admitted, "though it's hard to pinpoint just one yet. We're still looking for motives. And I'm not allowed on the case."

"Why not?" asked Hermione, glancing at her best friend.

Harry sighed. "Because it's personal. The department doesn't want me anywhere near the case because they fear what I might do if I found the suspect."

"Tell me Ron's not on the case," the Muggle born ordered more than asked.

"Oh, Hell, no!" Ginny immediately answered. "You know how quick he is to temper. You tell him that so-and-so threatened me and he'll be on a one way train to Azkaban in a heartbeat. He's worse than Harry."

"I wouldn't count on that, Gin," Harry argued. "These people threatened my wife and killed my child. I'm not above making a person who threatens my family wish for death."

"Yes you are, Harry," the ginger said tiredly. "You're better than any other man on this planet."

Hermione smiled as she glanced at the repulsive look on her own husband's face. "Oh, I'm sure that can be debated, Gin," the Muggle born witch said in a teasing tone.

"Come off it," the younger witch argued. "Harry's worth about ten of most of the wizards here in the wizarding world alone."

"I'm not interested in listening to you two talk about how great I am," the bespectacled man said. "It's bad enough I get it from the rest of the world on a daily basis."

"Thank Merlin I'm not the only one," Draco sighed, looking a bit relieved. "Thought I would have to box my own ears for a moment there."

"You still can if you like," Ginny stated, hopefully.

Hermione gazed lovingly at her husband. "Don't worry, my prince, you're still handsome," she said.

"Oo!" Ginny cooed with a smile. "Your 'prince' now is it? How well did that honeymoon go?"

Hermione blushed and looked away as Draco momentarily blanched. The ginger haired Gryffindor giggled, "That well, huh?"

"Oh, Gin, you know I can't talk about those things," Hermione said, though she giggled herself.

"Why not?" the younger witch asked. "Did the Slytherin Prince not live up to the rumours?"

The Muggle born shook her head. "Oh, no, that he did," she confessed. "And then some besides. I'm just not sure this is really appropriate talk."

"It's not," Draco stated, the colour in his face returning. "But I do appreciate the comment, love. Good to know I was more than acceptable in bed."

Hermione grinned. "Yes, well, if this were Hogwarts and your abilities were to be graded, I would say you received an Outstanding."

A satisfied smirk graced Draco's lips at that and Harry made retching noises. "Definitely not something I need to hear about," the messy haired man said, looking a bit green.

Ginny giggled. "Oh, I have to hear it from somewhere." She sighed and gave the bushy haired witch a sad look. "Merlin knows, I won't be seeing any action any time soon."

Hermione frowned. "Why not?" she asked.

The young Gryffindor leaned back against her pillows and sighed. "The Healers said that while most of my body is healed, that area will need time to heal on its own. The most I can do at present is work on my fellatio skills."

It was Draco's turn to give a look of disgust. "Whose fault is that?" he asked, trying to change the subject before the girls got too carried away.

"That I'm not sure about," Ginny told him. "But when I find out…"

The blond shook his head. "That's not what I meant. What were you doing on a broom when you knew you were pregnant?"

Ginny frowned. "Many pregnant women fly on brooms. And they practice. There is no law stating that I can't practice while pregnant."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "What's the point of practicing if you won't be able to actually play?" he asked, folding his arms.

The witch's eyes widened. "I wouldn't be pregnant forever," she told him. "And after the baby is born…"

"You'll have to care for it," the Slytherin stated. "You talk as though you'll have time to play your game and care for a newborn."

"I would," she said.

"You wouldn't," he argued. "It's a nice thought, to be sure, but once you have a child, that child becomes your life. Everything gets put on hold for it, especially if you're a mother."

Ginny glared at him. "How would you know? You've never had a child."

"You're right," he admitted. "I haven't, but I will and soon if I'm lucky enough. I've spent hours talking to both of my parents about having and raising children." He moved to stand closer to his wife. "I don't agree with all of their methods. Merlin knows I will never teach my children to be prejudice. My children won't be nearly as spoiled as I was as a child either. However, parents should spend as much time with their children as they can, especially the first five years. When you become a parent, everything changes and it will never go back to the way things were before. The way they are now. You'll never be the same again."

"You're repeating the things your parents told you," Ginny pointed out. "Each family is different."

"Of course it is," he agreed. "But the sentiments remain the same. You don't have to take my word for it either, Potter. Just wait. You'll see. My father says he knew the moment he first held me that things would be different. Suddenly, he had little desire to be part of the Dark Lord's plans, but once you take the Mark, you cannot turn away from it. If you do, you and your entire family are sentenced to death."

"He still spouted Voldemort's beliefs," the ginger stated sourly.

Draco nodded. "And he believed them," he told her.

"Believed? You say that with a past tense, as if he no longer believes that Purebloods are somehow better," the witch commented, looking at the Slytherin curiously.

He shrugged and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Having your only son marry a Muggle born changes things, doesn't it?" he questioned. "Don't doubt, there's still a lot of dislike there, but the more time he spends around Hermione, the more he changes. There's actually a plan in place to bring her parents to the Manor soon. Father's going to restore their memories."

Ginny looked at Hermione and the older witch nodded. Ginny's eyes widened. "How does he intend to do that without a wand?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Draco lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "It's magic," he said. "Not all spells require a wand. It just so happens that this one does not."

"How convenient," the young witch groused. She glanced at Hermione. "Are you sure you can even trust him? I mean… he was a Death Eater."

Hermione took a deep breath and placed a hand over Draco's hand, giving it a squeeze. "I do," she told the girl. "Would you like to know why? It's because he's family now. And family means everything to old Lucius. Regardless of how he feels towards the rest of the world, he'll do anything for family. We saw that during the final battle, did we not?"

"The final…?" Ginny stuttered. "Hermione, he was wandless, lost, and didn't even participate in the final battle. You can hardly use that as a reference of how he's changed."

The Muggle born shook her head. "I'm not." Seeing her friend getting ready to argue, the witch insisted, "Really, I'm not. If you want the truth, I don't think he's really changed at all. Still the same cold, ruthless son of a bitch we've always known, but that's just it, isn't it? What do you really know about Lucius Malfoy?" She sighed and glanced down at her free hand. Her other hand remained holding Draco's as she spoke, "I didn't really get to know him until after I married Draco and I still don't feel I know him well. But I've seen the passion in his eyes when he speaks of his family members, whether it's Draco, Narcissa, or even myself. He doesn't even like it when I call him 'Mr. Malfoy', preferring instead to me using the term 'Father'. I think he finds it endearing or something, I don't know."

"Why don't you just call him 'Lucius'?" Ginny asked, staring at her friend skeptically.

The Muggle born glanced up at her husband before looking back at her friend and shrugged. "He's never given me permission," she said. "The Malfoys are a traditional lot. When Narcissa and I started to get to know one another, she told me I could call her by her given name. After a while, I changed to the more intimate term of 'Mother', but I think she was half expecting it."

The Pureblood wizard said nothing as his wife spoke of their family, but he did allow her to hold his hand and even squeezed when he was getting ready to say something nasty to the little redhead. But he knew this meeting wasn't about him. Well, not really. Finally, a thought came to him and he spoke up, "Actually, Potter, my father did wish to speak to you about a particular matter."

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed and she pinched her lips. "Why doesn't he come here and speak to me then?"

A single blond eyebrow lifted as he regarded her. "You do remember that he's under house arrest?" he asked. "If he were to come here, he would be arrested on the spot."

She threw him a dull look. "If anyone saw him performing magic, he would be arrested on the spot," she reminded him, but he shook his head.

"No, he wouldn't. He's not using a wand, so it doesn't really count, does it? His sentence clearly states that he is to be stripped of his wand and he's to remain on Malfoy grounds," he told her. "He can easily Floo from one Malfoy house to another and no one said anything about using wandless magic."

"Probably because no one knew he could perform wandless magic," Harry stated, staring at the heir thoughtfully.

Draco shrugged. "Not my problem. Not his problem either," he commented. "They really should have paid more attention. Wandless, and even wordless, magic is something he excels at. Had to after the first war."

Hermione glanced up at her husband curiously. "What happened during the first war?"

The Slytherin frowned. "Didn't you ever wonder why Father's always using a walking stick? Or why that stick carries his wand? Honestly, love, you should ask him some time," he told her, looking up at the Potters, he continued, "he was injured during that war and, for the longest time, couldn't stand without the assistance of his walking stick. So, he taught himself wandless magic to make it a bit easier, to keep at least one of his hands free."

Ginny sat up and straightened the pillow behind herself before leaning back again. "Surely he must have healed by now. Why in Merlin's name would he still carry that stick with him?"

Draco shrugged. "Habit? It's sort of a crutch, isn't it? He's become rather attached to it," He smirked as he added, "Besides, he does give him a bit of an imposing air, doesn't it?"

"He doesn't scare me," Ginny declared hotly.

"No," the blond purred, "and I doubt he would. Gryffindors are so foolishly brave, even in the worst of times."

"Oh God," the ginger said, shaking her head and looking away. "Sometimes, Malfoy, you sound just like him."

Draco laughed at that. "You live with the man for nearly twenty years and see what you end up learning."

"No, thanks," she commented, waving a hand at him.

His laughter died to a small chuckle and tapered off as he glanced down at his wife. "Are you about ready, love? We still have to meet with my parents for supper."

Hermione looked up at him and sighed. "I suppose so, though it does getting tiring eating with your parents every night."

"It's not every night," he argued. "Just tonight."

"And last night, and the night before… Honestly, Draco, we've eaten there every night since we returned from France," she commented.

He pouted. Hermione's eyes widened as she couldn't believing he was actually pouting. "Father's been in prison for the past two years, love. Can't we spend just a bit more time with them? I'm sure even I will become tired of being in their presence after a while," he whined.

Ginny snorted and covered her mouth to hide her giggle.

The Muggle born blinked several times. "Are you serious?" she asked in disbelief.

And there it was. Large, sad grey eyes stared at her and his bottom lip quivered a bit. The bushy haired witch didn't know whether to smack him or burst out laughing. Thankfully, Ginny decided for her as she was overcome with a fit of giggles. The blond wizard glared at the ginger witch. "Think it's funny, do you?" he asked in a voice that was almost reminiscent of the boy Hermione had known at Hogwarts.

That was what did it, too, throwing Hermione into her own fit of giggles as she stood up. "Come on, little prince," she teased. "Let's get you home before you start embarrassing yourself."

Knowing he had won, Draco straightened up suddenly and, head held high, walked with confidence towards the door. "See you later, Potter," he said rather cheerfully.

The girls laughed some more as Hermione hugged each of her friends and began following him. As they left, the Potters could hear Hermione say, "Thank Merlin you're cute, otherwise, I'd bend you over my knee and wallop you."

Draco glanced at his wife and lifted an eyebrow. "We could still do that, if you like," he told her. "Only, I would insist on bending _you_ over _my_ knee."

Hermione groaned as she continued to the lifts. "You really are impossible, you do know that, right?" she asked as she stepped on the elevator.

He shrugged as he stepped up behind her. Dipping his head down, he kissed her gently on the lips and whispered into her ear, "And I'm all yours."

As the lifts stopped, Hermione shuddered.

* * *

**Author's note**: Hello, lovelies. Hope you all had a bountiful Christmas. Myself? I was sick all Christmas (sucks I know!) My internet has been down, so I haven't been able to come online as much as I would like. (Stupid bills always getting in the way of my fun.) No worries, though, it will be back before we know it. :)

**Occupational Haz:** See? I've been trying so hard to figure out a way for Ron and Hermione to be friends again, but the little prick just keeps fucking things up. Honestly, too, Draco was being completely cordial until Ron started his crap. Even sympathized with the Weasleys! Ah well. Hopefully things will get better. (I honestly don't know about Ron sometimes.)

**SmileSimplify:** I do plan on showing some more Lucissa moments. As Draco learns the family business, and with Hermione's birthday and Samhain right around the corner, they'll be spending more time at the Manor with more chances of running into something they'd rather not. *Giggles* And you're right about the Ron/Hermione dynamic, I think. We see this prevalent throughout the books and even films. She forgives Ron consistently and even admits that she's "always mad at him," yet doesn't do anything to really rectify the situation, ei cut ties with him. With Draco, she's more willing to call him out on it because of their shared history. Not to mention, they genuinely are made for one another. Quidditch rules, in my story, do state as Draco said, that a witch cannot play whilst she is pregnant, mostly for the safety of the unborn child. However, Ron is also right in stating that she is allowed to practice if she is cleared by her Healer, but that they aren't allowed to use Bludgers during said practices. To me, this kinda throws a handicap at the team, but it does allow her to practice. The team knew she was pregnant and that Bludger wasn't supposed to be on the field. So, where did it come from? I suppose we'll find out as the story progresses. Needless to say, Harry is pissed. And I'm sure the Malfoys have plans for when the Wilkins arrive.

**SereniteRose:** Some of the reasons Lucius acts the way he does is 1. he was probably as spoiled as Draco was as a child; and 2. people take advantage. It's sort of like what Narcissa was saying in the first few chapters. There is this belief among the filthy rich that the poor just want hand out after hand out, and honestly, there are some who will take advantage of those with money. So, Lucius had to learn how to self-guard, and probably at a really young age. (I imagine his Hogwarts years kids would want to be friends with him just because they hoped he would give them money.)

**Chester99:** Yeah, I'm beginning to fear the same thing between Ron and Hermione. Once they break up, I doubt they'll ever be able to remain friends. Ron's just too jealous and controlling. Draco's no saint, not by a long shot, but Ron doesn't know when to let up. I keep trying to find a way for them to return to being just friends, but so far it just hasn't worked. I honestly think things are going to change a lot in the next couple chapters (and not just because I have a surprise for all of you. ;) ) Oh, and I love that you love my Lucius. I enjoy writing him as he's always fascinated me.


	28. Chapter 28

The next couple weeks saw the Malfoys to be quite busy. Wild nights led to crazy mornings which, in turn, led to spontaneous daytimes. Hermione and Draco's love life had yet to die down, but the Muggle born knew that this was just the beginning. She had heard that when two people start off so quickly, they have a tendency to grow bored with one another, or to eventually settle down. That hadn't happened yet.

Hermione had redecorated the new manor she and Draco lived in, giving it a homier feel. While she had mounted a Gryffindor flag on one side of the fireplace in the drawing room, she made sure to place a Slytherin flag opposite of it. Lucius had gifted them with a large painting of their wedding day which Hermione had hung above the mantle. The portrait was one of Draco and Hermione dressed in their respective wedding garments and smiling. Every once in a while, the Draco in the portrait would kiss his wife or twirl her around in a gentle waltz. It was truly a beautiful painting and Hermione couldn't help but ask her new father-in-law how he came about it. To which there was no reply. Typical.

Much of the manor was decorated in soft greens and blues, with light wood furniture and beige carpet. The master bedroom was Hermione's favourite place, though. She did her best to combine her style with Draco's and was left with a very artistic feeling room. He allowed her to hang up some Muggle paintings, contemporary pieces of the moon, sun, and sky, as well as an 8x10 real Muggle photo of an otter playing on a bank. The furnishings were made of oak wood and stained a rich burnt sienna colour. The bedroom carpet was dull green and she decided to keep the bed set to the rich Slytherin colours it was, though the Slytherin crest was missing.

She had left the main study for Draco to decorate however he wanted, knowing his tastes were slightly different than her own. In return, he said nothing about how she decorated the rest of the manor, aside from a remark here and there about how wonderful everything looked.

This day, in particular, found Hermione happily sitting in her drawing room laughing with Ginny and Luna over tea and a tray of scones. For some reason, since the incident Ginny had, the Pureblood witch seemed to get along better with Draco. It was by no means ideal in Hermione's mind, but she could see the pair were genuinely trying to get along and, for her, that meant everything.

"So, how bad is it?" Ginny asked as she poured a bit of honey over her scone.

Hermione shrugged. "Most of the time, it's just a simple question and answer, but I do think Lucius is losing his patience with us. Merlin, you would think the man had never tried to conceive a child before. These things do take time," she commented as she broke apart a scone for herself.

"Maybe his head is full of Wackspurts. I hear they're at their worst this time of the year," Luna chimed as she sipped her tea.

"Maybe," Hermione conceded, having long ago given up on trying to explain to her Ravenclaw friend that Wackspurts just did not exist.

The young blond nodded and glanced back up at the portrait above the fireplace. "I do love that painting," she commented. "I must say, Hermione, you really do bring out the best in Draco. I never thought I'd ever seen a genuine smile on his face. It does make him look more pleasing to the eye, doesn't it?"

Ginny choked on her tea. "Didn't you say just the other day that you found him handsome, Luna?"

The wispy witch did not look at her friend, but nodded as she leaned back in her chair. "Yes, and I stand by that statement. However, there is a certain whimsy that comes with a smile that he often lacks. It doesn't make him less handsome, but sometimes, he can look less pleasing, especially when he frowns," she said.

"Are we done analysing my husband's looks?" Hermione asked, though she smiled a bit.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ginny hissed. "You know if he were here, he would love to hear us talking about him. That narcissistic prat."

"Only if it's good things," the Muggle born said tiredly. "You two are staying for supper, right? I think Narcissa and Lucius will be here as well, but it will be here."

Ginny sighed. "You know I don't really get along with the Malfoy Senior, but I can try. I'll have to Floo Harry and convince him to come as well."

"Will Theodore be here?" Luna asked, causing the other two witches to stare at her in surprise.

"Luna! Do you fancy Theodore Nott?" Hermione questioned, seeing the wistful look in the blond's eyes.

The slim girl smiled prettily and gave Hermione a side glance. "He is a handsome fellow, don't you think? Tall, dark, with an air of mystery. He's intelligent, too, and seemed to be just as much interested in me as I with him."

"Well, have you told him yet?" Ginny asked, sitting up.

The blond blushed a little. "I think he knows," she admitted, "though I don't recall ever saying a word. He has a gift of the tongue that can really turn a girl's world upside down."

Ginny smirked, but still felt the need to say, "Just be careful. He is a Slytherin and one of the princes to boot."

Hermione scoffed. "I'll never get all this 'Slytherin prince' nonsense. He's a boy just like all the others."

"But he's a talented boy," Luna pointed out.

"I'll ask Draco if he'll make an appearance," Hermione stated as she sipped her tea some more. "Whether he does or not, remains to be seen, but I'm sure if he does, he'll be quite obnoxious. He's a ladies' man."

"Which is what is meant by a Slytherin prince," Ginny defined for Hermione.

The Muggle born shook her head. "Draco was considered _the_ Slytherin prince, if you recall, and I assure you, he wasn't nearly as promiscuous as most people would have you believe."

"Oh, that's not why he was called 'the Slytherin Prince'," Luna rectified with a shake of her head. "Tallies on a bedpost aren't nearly as important as how many girls swoon over the young men. Some guys, probably like Theodore, took advantage of the swooning, but others, like your Draco, just allowed them to swoon. Rumours work just as well as the actual deeds and no one worries about unwanted pregnancies."

"I thought you said you weren't Draco's first, Hermione," Ginny commented curiously.

The bushy haired witch shrugged. "I wasn't, but that doesn't mean he shagged every slag who bat her eyes at him. He does have standards. I just don't want to see you become another tally on Theo's bedpost, Luna. I'm with Ginny. You should be careful."

Luna gave another wistful smile. "I won't. I'm not that easy, I promise. If he feels the same towards me, he'll know what to do."

The other two couldn't find anything to argue on that subject, so Hermione changed topics and the conversation continued merrily. Finally, at a quarter to seven, Luna was giggling when she asked, "So, Hermione, it is true that Draco has a nice rack of abs?"

"What about my arse?" Draco questioned as he walked into the room.

All three girls burst into laughter, Hermione keeling over onto the floor. "Not 'arse', 'ABS', you git!" she giggled.

He glanced around uncertainly, but then smiled and shrugged. He untucked his shirt and began unbuttoning it. "I don't mind showing those," he told the girls.

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped as she struggled to stand. "Draco, Harry should be here…"

"Oh, hush, you!" Ginny hissed. "He's not going to say anything about me seeing Draco's… Oh, wow." Her eyes widened as the blond wizard peeled off his shirt, showing his well-defined six-pack and pecks. "Ten points to Slytherin," she whispered.

Luna tilted her head as Draco neatly folded his shirt and draped it over a chair. He smirked when he saw the two girls ogling at him. "Do I meet your approval, Potter?" he asked, having heard her Slytherin comment.

She stood and approached him. "May I?" she questioned, reaching out to touch his bicep.

He glanced at Hermione for a moment before kindly saying, "No touching, if you don't mind. I would like to sleep in my own bed tonight."

Ginny pulled her hand away as if she had been burned. "Of course," she readily agreed. She glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for a split second. "Hermione, where have you been hiding him?"

"I haven't been hiding him anywhere," the Muggle born stated as she moved to stand beside her husband. "He just usually _keeps his shirt on_," she added, looking pointedly at the wizard.

He brushed her cheek with his fingers. "Don't worry, love. My eyes are only for you," he told her as he retrieved his shirt and threw it over his shoulder. "If the three of you will excuse me, I should probably head upstairs to the bedroom to change."

He paused long enough to give Hermione a searing kiss, one that caused the other two witches to melt back onto their chairs. When they broke their kiss, Hermione gazed up into her husband's eyes. "Harry will be joining us soon. Do you know if Theodore will be joining us as well tonight?"

"He wasn't, but I can ask him," he told her softly. "Any reason why he'll be attending?"

Hermione smirked. "Luna will be the only one tonight without a date if he doesn't show. It wouldn't be right to leave her alone, now would it?"

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes shifting to the Ravenclaw quickly before coming back to his wife. "I wasn't aware the two were dating."

"Hopefully they will be before the night is over," the Muggle born predicted. "They would look adorable together, don't you think?"

"I didn't know we'd be playing matchmakers tonight," he said. "You should come to the bedroom to change before it gets too late. If Father sees you in your day clothes, you know he'll have a fit."

Hermione sighed. "Let me show my friends to their rooms and I'll be up," she promised.

He gave her another kiss before he left the room. Ginny and Luna hadn't taken their eyes off of him. "Sweet Merlin, he has a nice arse, too!" the ginger haired witch sighed.

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded, grabbing the latest edition of the Daily Prophet and hitting her friend with it.

"Hey!" the girl snapped, refocusing her attention on her friend. "It was a compliment."

"You were ogling my husband," the Muggle born growled.

The ginger witch rolled her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with looking. I have no interest in him and besides, I like them a bit more hairy."

The innuendo wasn't lost on the older witch and she rolled her eyes. "You would, you brazen hussy," she teased. "Come on, I'll show you both to the guest rooms and you can try on some of my dresses for supper tonight."

(II)(II)

As Hermione entered her bedroom, she pulled off the blouse she had been wearing and tossed it on the floor. She then began working on her trousers as she continued into the room towards Draco.

He stood there with nothing but a towel hanging low on his waist as he looked in the mirror and combed his hair. "So, did your friends enjoy the show?" he asked a bit haughty.

The Muggle born sighed as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and hugged him. "You really shouldn't tease like that," she told him. "One day someone might take you seriously."

"I doubt it," he said, putting the comb down and turning so he could hold her. "You are the only woman who will ever get to experience this entirely."

She melted into his kiss and did not protest when he picked her up and set her on the vanity, though she knew her trousers were probably covered in makeup now. "We don't have time," she moaned as he kissed along her jawline to her neck. She nipped at his ear.

"There's always time," he told her as he vanished her trousers and let his towel pool at his feet. "I just want to feel you."

The sex was quick. Hermione had grabbed onto the sides of the vanity and tried not to let her head bang too hard into the mirror as Draco swiftly pounded into her. It wasn't long at all before she was crying out her release while he grunted his own as he emptied himself inside her.

He pulled away once he was sure she was steady. "Tonight we can take our time," he told her. "I just really needed you right now."

She nodded as she slid off of the vanity and went to the closet.

"So, Lovegood fancies Nott, does she?" he called as he dug into his dresser for a pair of green y-fronts.

Hermione came out of the closet with a simple blue and white dress. "She does," she confessed as she slipped the dress on. It wasn't the usual medieval attire Narcissa preferred her wearing, this one had a zipper in the back, but it still looked old enough. "I warned her about tangling with him, but she seems smitten," she said. "Can you help me with this zipper?"

Letting his trousers and leather belt hang off his hips, Draco turned to help his wife. "Well, Lovegood's a big girl and I remember seeing her in the final battle. There's no doubt that she can hold her own."

"I'm not worried about her virtue so much as her heart," the bushy haired witch stated. "Luna is a dear friend of mine and I would so hate to see her get hurt."

Draco finished zipping up the dress and buttoned the top button. "Who says he'll hurt her?"

She turned back around and straightened herself out. "You know how much he likes the ladies," she said.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean he would hurt her," he said as he reached into the closet and pulled out a clean shirt. "Nott talks a lot of shit, but if it ever came down to it, he would be loyal to the one girl. He plays, but he doesn't cheat."

"Alright," she conceded. "Have you spoken to him yet?"

He nodded. "He said he had a couple things he needed to take care of, but that he'll be here in time for supper. I didn't tell him about Lovegood. Figured I would just see how the evening goes."

"When he sees that he and Luna are the only two not paired up, he's going to know," she pointed out. "He's not stupid."

Draco smirked and winked at her. "I know."

(III)(III)

Sitting at the dining table was odd for Hermione. While she had been used to the sitting arrangements at Malfoy Manor, she didn't think they would extend to the manor she and Draco shared. Sure enough, however, it did, and Draco didn't say a word in protest.

Luckily for the Muggle born, her friends were there, so she was able to smile through the first course. "One of my first nights here, Draco and I ate at Malfoy Manor and had some of the most delicious stuffed mushrooms I have ever tasted," she was telling Ginny.

The ginger licked her lips as she cut into a jalapeno boat. "This looks delicious. Did you make it yourself?"

Hermione gave a small giggle and shook her head. "Maisey hates it when I even attempt to go near the kitchen, but I am determined to cook at least one dish someday."

"You're a Malfoy," Lucius commented. "You don't need to cook."

The Muggle born glanced at him. "Yes, I know, Father, but it's not a 'need' so much as a 'want'. I actually enjoy cooking from time to time. My mother and I used to make some of the most wonderful pies together," she said as she turned back to Ginny. "I still have the recipes, too."

"We'll have to try them out some time," the ginger suggested. "Merlin knows I could use some ideas for the kitchen. Poor Kreacher is getting so old."

"Kreacher?" Narcissa asked curiously.

Ginny nodded. "He used to serve the Black family until Sirius passed away. When Sirius had named Harry his heir, the house and everything in it, including Kreacher, became Harry's property. Didn't you know that?"

Narcissa raised an eyebrow as she picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. "To be perfectly honest," she said with a small sniff, "no, I wasn't aware. I knew of Kreacher, to be sure. I remember how he would come here, crying to us about how poorly Sirius treated him and how he wished he could get away from…" she steeled herself, but continued, "'the blood traitors and Mudbloods.' It was quite pathetic listening to him, but the Dark Lord felt it could be used to our advantage, so I catered to the little critter, soothed him and even reassured him that everything was going to be alright."

"He's better now," Harry said, picking up a jalapeno boat and biting into it. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, swallowed, and added, "Though I did hate him, especially after Sirius died. I know your sister was the one who did it, but if Kreacher had kept his mouth shut, I knew Sirius would still be alive."

Hermione sighed. "You can't blame him, though, Harry. We've talked about this. Kreacher was being abused. Sirius hated him desperately and even I saw how he would kick him and call him names." She glanced pointedly at Lucius. "Even a dog will eventually turn under such malicious attack."

The bespectacled man smiled. "And that's why you're working so hard on house elf rights. To prevent such abuse," he said.

She nodded and turned to Draco. "House elf rights isn't about freeing them," she explained. "After being around elves and reading the books you've given me, I know that for the most part, they wouldn't be happy without a family. However, they still deserve respect and care. As witches and wizards it is our duty to help those that cannot help themselves, like elves, especially if they are in our care."

The blond agreed, "It's the least we can do, I know. It's taken me a long time and some harsh realities to accept those truths."

"And Dobby?" she ventured.

That silenced the room for a moment as Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco all glared at the Muggle born. When Draco spoke, his voice was calm and did not rise above his normal volume, "I have said it before and I will say it again. I am eternally grateful that Dobby was there that night at the Manor. If he hadn't been, your death would have been guaranteed, as well as the end of Harry Potter. However," he said, lifting an eyebrow, "that doesn't change the fact that Dobby was an ungrateful little snit. He was rude, conniving, hated doing any kind of work…"

"Why does that sound so familiar?" Hermione asked, glancing at Ginny, one look at Harry and she snapped her fingers, "Oh! I know why!"

"Hermione, you are a lady," Narcissa chided. "It is impolite to snap your fingers, especially at the table."

"It is also unladylike to interrupt when someone is speaking," Lucius added, picking up his glass. "I know what you are attempting to insinuate and, while I'm sure Draco was the epitome of a spoiled, rude, conniving little git, there is a difference. Given that he is the heir of my estate and my only child, it can even be considered understandable. However," he took a sip of his drink and placed it neatly back onto the table, "Dobby was none of these things. He was an elf who had been in my family since I was a boy. He never liked me and when my father passed, he resented me."

"Why didn't you just free him then?" she asked. "It's obvious that was what he wanted."

The food had disappeared and bowls of scented water appeared in their place. As Lucius dipped his fingertips in his bowl and cleaned his hands, he sighed. "One does not simply free house elves, my dear," he told her. "It's a process, one that requires finding better arrangements for them. If those books Draco gave you told you anything about house elves, then you would know that it is a wizard's job to find another family the elf can give their loyalties to, otherwise they could go mad."

"Isn't that what happened to poor Winky?" Ginny asked, looking at her husband.

Harry nodded. "I don't know whatever happened to her," he said. "I know she helped out during the final battle, but I haven't seen her since."

"She's probably still at the castle, then," Theo surmised, though he had absolutely no idea who Winky was. "Most elves are loyal as hell, which I had always thought was a bit odd about Dobby. Didn't know he was your dad's elf, Mr. Malfoy. Explains a lot."

Lucius shook his head slightly. "He wasn't," he admitted. "Dobby was born at the Manor. My mother's old elf had been his mother, though my father hadn't told her to breed. They didn't even know she was pregnant until she gave birth, though they decided to let her keep it. Once Dobby was old enough, he was given to me as a birthday present."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Your parents gave you an elf for your birthday?"

Malfoy Senior frowned. "In those days, it was considered a perfectly acceptable gift," he said defensively.

The Muggle born looked down at her bowl. "Did you ever find out who the father was?" she asked.

Draco touched his wife's hand. "Do you remember old Stubs?" he asked.

"The elf who takes care of the horses," she answered. "Yes, I remember him."

The Pureblood gave her a look and turned back to the bowl in front of him as it disappeared and the entre appeared before them all. "I do like roasted chicken," Luna commented as she took her napkin and placed it gently on her lap.

As they all dug into their food, Ginny gushed about how delicious everything was. "The seasoning on these vegetables…" she began as she stabbed a carrot and put it in her mouth. She closed her eyes and bit back a moan. "Malfoy, your house elf and mine should meet and swap cooking secrets and soon," she said as she swallowed her food.

Draco smirked, but didn't say anything as he continued eating his food. He glanced at Nott and saw his old friend staring at Lovegood. His smirk grew wider and when Nott met his gaze, the blond winked and gave the Ravenclaw a pointed look, turning his attention back to Nott.

Nott rolled his eyes and licked his lips. "So, Lovegood, how do you like your food?" he asked as he cut his chicken breast into small pieces.

Luna smiled softly. "It is quite tasty," she admitted, dabbing her lips, as she glanced at the Head, "I didn't know you raised chickens, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius nodded. "Everything on your plate was grown right on the grounds of the estate," he told her. "Or on the grounds of one of my many other properties."

"I remember shortly after the war, Malfoy estates had donated millions of Galleons towards recovery, not to mention the boxes of medical supplies given to St. Mungos," she commented. "When Father wrote the article, I thought for sure your family had lost a great deal of wealth."

"I will not lie," Lucius said, taking a sip of his wine. "At the time, I wasn't entirely aware of where the money was going. When I returned, I became angry when Draco told me he had to close one of our vaults, but in the end, what we've given doesn't come near to what was lost."

Hermione could see that Ginny was doing her best to keep her mouth shut and she silently applauded the younger witch. It was Harry who asked, "How many vaults do you have? I thought Gringotts only gave one vault to each family."

Lucius smirked. "That is true in most cases, Mr. Potter," he conceded. "However, we are an old wizarding family. Even at times when our ancestors felt as though they were losing everything, they weren't truly."

Ginny ground her teeth and stared fixedly at her plate. Hermione saw her friend close her eyes and knew this was hard for the ginger haired witch.

"Is it true you own winged horses?" Luna asked, staring at the older Malfoy curiously.

He inclined his head. "It is," he told her. "In fact, one of our Granians recently gave birth to a handsome colt."

"Oh! Good!" Hermione said, excitedly. "Stubs did say she would be giving birth soon. Will I get to see her, Father?"

Lucius frowned. "As much as I would like to say yes," he started and his wife gave him a look. He shook his head. "You'll have to forgive me, my dear," he told the Muggle born. "These next few weeks will be the most dangerous around both her and the foal. If anyone even attempts to go near them, she will attack."

Hermione nodded in understanding and turned back to her plate. "Soon then," she stated, knowing he would agree to that. "I'm sure you've already begun making plans for the colt."

"I have," he admitted. "I haven't decided if I'll geld him yet or not, but I do plan on having him trained for the derby."

This caught both Hermione and Ginny's attentions. "The derby?" they asked in unison, though of the two, the Muggle born looked the most confused.

Draco smirked. "You didn't think Quidditch was our only sport, did you, love?" he asked teasingly.

"I had read somewhere that some wizards race winged horses, but…"

Lucius shook his head. "It isn't a race, my dear," he said. "It's more like… Well, it's a bit like Muggle polo, only in the air and with a bit more extravagance."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically. "No one in my family has ever been interested, but I used to read magazines about the derby," she said, smiling. She giggled as she glanced at Harry, "Oh, I have always wanted to go to one. There was a Granian named Sea Thunder who was named one of the greatest horses the derby had ever seen. He soared through the sky and led his team straight into three undefeated seasons in a row." She sat back and glanced up at the ceiling. Sighing, she added breathlessly, "He was a legend."

Hermione smiled as she listened to her friend. "So, why wasn't your family interested?" she asked.

The ginger shrugged. "It's a game for the rich," she explained. "At least, that's what my dad used to say. While Quidditch can be enjoyed by all, only the elite could ever really participate in the derby."

The Muggle born turned to her husband. "Do you think we could go?" she asked. "I've never seen a wizarding derby before and it sounds fascinating."

"I don't even know when the next one will be," he answered, glancing at his father.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "The last game is at the end of August," he informed them. "If you'd like I can procure a box. I'm sure our family still has enough sway, though I won't be able to join you, of course."

Ginny's eyes widened as she stared at the patriarch. "A box. For your son and his wife?"

"And anyone they wish to bring," he said, and the girl nearly squealed.

Looking excitedly at the bushy haired witch, she said, "Oh, Hermione, please? I've never been and I've always wanted to go."

"Someone will need to be there to tell me what's going on," the Muggle born said.

Ginny jumped from her chair, ran around the table, and hugged her friend. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she giggled. Bouncing in place, she glanced at her husband. "You'll come too, Harry? And Theo and Luna?"

Amusement dancing across Theodore's eyes as he folded his napkin and looking to Luna. "What do you think?" he asked her. "Would you want to accompany me to this derby?"

The wispy girl nodded. "It does sound like fun. Will Blaise and Padma be there as well?"

Draco did not bother hiding his smile as the Ginny's happiness had started effecting him. "I'm sure they will if I ask," he replied.

Harry, too, was smiling, having not seen his wife so happy in a long time. "The only flying horses I have ever seen were Thestrals and the ones pulling the Beauxbatons carriage," he admitted. "It'll be interesting to see some play a sport."

Lucius nodded. "It's settled then. I will send an owl to the derby master and purchase a box for eight, unless, Cissy, darling, did you want to go?" he asked, looking to his wife.

She shook her head. "To be honest, I'm only ever really interested when you're with me, darling. Since you can't be there, I'd rather not," she told him.

He held out his hand to her. She took his hand and he lifted it up to place a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. "Perhaps I'll take you on a carriage ride, then?"

"That would be lovely," she said with a smile.

(IV)(IV)

After everyone had eaten, they had retired to the drawing room. Harry had challenged Draco to a friendly game of chess while Ginny told Hermione everything she knew about wizarding derby. Lucius and Narcissa sat quietly by the fireplace, as Lucius nursed a brandy in his hand.

Theodore approached Luna at the piano, watching her as she studied the keys. "Do you know any good songs?" he asked her as he leaned against the massive instrument.

She pressed a couple keys at random, listening to the sounds they made. "I've never had the time to learn," she admitted. "Our home isn't large enough to hold both a printing press and a piano. Not that it really bothered me. I spent most of my childhood in the garden, looking for Nargles and Balliswads."

"Balli-what?" he questioned, genuinely curious.

She glanced at him. "They're these little insects that latch onto flowers and suck on the nectar right out," she explained.

"Like bees?" he suggested and she shook her head.

"Bees use the nectar to make honey and pollunate other flowers," she told him. "But a Balliswad doesn't really give anything back. Our garden was plagued with them for a year after my mother passed away. Father said that was why all of our flowers died."

He nodded quietly and waved a hand at the bench she was sitting on. "May I join you?"

Her soft smile and slight tilt of her head was all the permission he needed. "You do know that this was planned, right?" he questioned with a small smile.

"What was planned?" she asked as she turned her attention back to the ivory keys.

"My coming here," he said simply. "I think Draco and Hermione are trying to hook us up."

"They aren't," she told him with certainty. She did not look at him as she pressed a few more random keys. "I asked Draco to invite you."

This surprised Theo and he blinked. "Why?"

Her smile never wavered as she found a string of chords that sounded right in her mind. "I didn't want to be the odd one out again," she answered. She stopped playing and looked at him. "I hope you aren't angry. I wasn't expecting anything really and we don't have to call it a date."

He stared at her for a long moment, astounded the girl had been so bold. "I'm not angry," he told her as he lifted a hand and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. "If it would please you, Miss Lovegood, I would like to take you out on an official date. Maybe have lunch and go to the park."

She inclined her head as her blue eyes stared straight into his soul. "I would like that very much, Theodore."

For the first time in his life, Draco actually beat Harry at a game. Of course, it was wizard's chess and Harry never was really good at it, but it still counted for the Slytherin as a win. "Looks like we've been playing the wrong game for all those years, Potter," he said with a satisfied smirk.

The Gryffindor shrugged. "Maybe," he agreed, "maybe not. It was a good game."

"Want another go?" the Slytherin asked, leaning back in his chair.

Harry glanced at his wife and then at the clock. "I think I can fit in one more," he decided.

Lucius let his eyes gaze about the room, watching as Nott flirted with Lovegood and his son battle his old nemesis. His eyes settled on the girls as they went from talking about the derby to children.

"Lucius?" his wife whispered as she followed his gaze.

He placed his tumbler on the end table and stood. Taking up his cane, he made his way to the girls. "Pardon the interruption," he said, bending in a slight bow and drawing their attention to him, "but might I have a word with you, Mrs. Potter?"

Ginny glanced at her friend and received an encouraging smile from her before turning back to the aristocratic wizard. "Alright. Are you wanting to speak alone, or…?"

"Alone is preferable, but unnecessary," he told her. "I've no doubt you would be more comfortable here in the presence of your husband and friends. However, if you don't mind, I would like to step into a bit more private corner."

Hermione could see the girl was nervous, but bravely nodded anyway. Ginny turned to Hermione, "I'm going to go see what sort of books there are for a bit of light reading. I'll be back."

The Muggle born gave a nod and the younger witch stood and straightened out her skirt. Ginny walked across the room to the bookcase in the far corner and pretended to peruse the books there. When she heard the man approach, she stopped and turned. Folding her arms across her chest, she nearly dropped her pleasantries, "What do you want, Mr. Malfoy?"

He paused at a comfortable distance from her. "I wished to speak to you about your first year at Hogwarts," he said.

She scoffed and turned away from him. "So, you're finally admitting what you did," she said, staring at the books without really seeing them.

He took a step towards her. "The Dark Lord never trusted anyone, even his most devote followers," he began. "He expected you to just do things without question. Obey his orders. If you were somehow lucky enough to earn his trust, you did whatever you could to keep it. I was a lad just coming out of Hogwarts when I took the Mark." He continued towards her until he came up to one of the armchairs and sat in it. "I won't deny that I enjoyed those first years, though the Mark burned terribly. Soon after I joined the ranks of Death Eaters, I became one of the lucky few, along with Bellatrix and Severus, to actually earn his trust. I still remember the day when he had given me that diary. He had it bound with a leather strap and informed me that I was never to open it. It was a personal possession of his and all he wanted was for me to keep it safe. I placed it in my library and forgot about it.

"Draco was born and, shortly after, the Dark Lord disappeared," he continued, watching as the girl sighed and sat in the chair opposite him. "The summer he returned from his first year at Hogwarts, Draco spent much of his time lamenting and complaining about Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. He also became more and more curious about the objects around the Manor. On top of that, the Ministry was starting to raid different homes looking for Dark artefacts.

"On day, I caught Draco playing in the library and he had the diary. I don't know how he found it," he told her. "That day happened to be the day we were going to Diagon Alley. I was dropping some things off in Knockturn Alley and still had the book in my possession," he told her. "It was merely a whim of mine to drop it in your cauldron. As you know, your father and I have always been rivals and I was quite annoyed by all these raids. Though I didn't know what the diary was, I knew that if the Ministry were to find it in your possession, it would bring much embarrassment to your father. I did not know it would open the Chamber of Secrets," he told her, meeting her eyes and holding them in his gaze. "I had it, I saw an opportunity, and I went with it. I figured you would find the book and either give it to one of your parents or a teacher."

"I was eleven," she said. "I just thought it was a normal diary. When I wrote in it, it responded. Hogwarts can be a scary place and having a crush on my brother's best friend didn't help me much. Tom was friendly. He offered me kind, consoling words and advice. When he started to possess me, I didn't entirely understand what was going on. As the year progressed, things just became worse. I tried to get rid of the diary, but I was too scared to give it to a teacher. Scared that I would get in trouble. It almost cost me my life."

Lucius gave a solemn nod. "I don't expect you to believe me, Mrs. Potter," he said quietly, "but I would never have given you that diary if I had known what it was. By all accounts, I truly thought the Dark Lord was dead and I was just getting rid of something inconsequential." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "I truly do apologize for what happened. If I knew of a way to make it up to you, I would, but what's done is done. I'm just grateful that you survived my failure."

"It almost cost Hermione's life, too," she told him. "If she hadn't managed to figure out what the creature was, she would have been killed."

"And what," he asked, swallowing, "was the creature?"

"A basilisk," she replied.

Ginny watched, amazed, as the wizard, this former Death Eater, closed his eyes and bowed his head. He lifted his hand to cover his face and Ginny could swear the man was crying. "If I had known…" she heard him whisper.

Tears filled her own eyes at the sight and she glanced up to see Narcissa striding towards them. The older witch knelt before her husband. "Lucius, darling, what's wrong?" she asked, placing a tender hand on his knee.

"A basilisk," he whispered, "I unleashed a basilisk."

"What?" his wife questioned, glancing at Ginny. "What is he talking about?"

The ginger haired girl gaped at the older wizard, shocked by his reaction. Her eyes sought support and Harry and Hermione quickly made their way to her. Seeing the elder Malfoy seem so stricken, the Muggle born bent down to his other knee. "Father? Are you…?" She was interrupted when he suddenly grabbed her and hugged her tightly to him, burying his face in her mane.

Hermione's eyes widened to the size of saucers as she stared at Draco, but the young man was just as confused. Unable to do much else, Hermione returned his hug, patting his back. "It's ok, Father," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear, his hot breath wet with tears. "I am so, so sorry, my dear, sweet girl." He broke the hug and cupped her cheek. "How can you ever forgive me?"

"I…" she stuttered, still not entirely sure what he was talking about.

"The basilisk," Ginny confirmed, wrapping herself in Harry's embrace, but staring at the broken man.

"Oh!" Hermione breathed as realization hit her. She placed her hand on his and stared into his eyes. "It's alright, Father. I know you didn't mean it. You didn't know. It's ok."

"That monster could have killed you," he said and Hermione watched as a single tear fell from his eye.

"But it didn't," she assured him. "I was just Petrified. Harry killed it, too."

"I'm still confused," Theo said, watching the two.

Hermione sighed and glanced at the dark haired Pureblood. "Our second year," she explained, "something kept Petrifying Muggle borns. It started with Mrs. Norris."

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Professor Sprout had us caring for Mandrakes at the time and she used them to revive all those that were Petrified."

"Yes," Hermione said, "the 'thing' turned out to be a basilisk that had been living in the Chamber of Secrets. The diary Father had given to Ginny was able to possess Ginny and open the Chamber."

"Oh God," Narcissa whispered, rocking back on her heels in horror.

Theodore and Draco looked at each other, both horrified and pale.

"But Harry killed it," the Muggle born insisted. "It sounds insane, I know, but we were all very lucky. And, Father, everything's alright now. See?" she said, pressing his hand against her face. "I'm alive and well. We all are. Well… mostly," she commented, glancing down. "Colin died during the war, but that wasn't your fault."

Lucius searched her eyes for a moment longer and then glanced up at a still shocked Ginny. "I truly am sorry, Mrs. Potter," he said, his voice full of conviction. "I never meant for that to happen. If I had known…"

Finally finding her voice, Ginny croaked, "Its ok, Mr. Malfoy. I… It happened a long time ago. I-I forgive you."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yay surprises! We gots a Christmas bonus rights here! Can I get some Lunadore love, my peeps? (Or do we call it Theona? Sounds like the name of that ogre from Shrek.) Yeah, I know the ending is a bit sappy, but imagine being a father and being told that you unintentionally released a fucking monstrous snake on a castle full of innocent children, one of those children happening to be your only child. Can't think of a single parent (good parent) that wouldn't crumble the way Lucius did. As much as he hated himself before, that realization... and you know not everyone knew what those Chambers held. It's not like Harry and his friends went around bragging about it. I think Lucius needs some love here, too, guys. What'cha think? And that sweet moment between him and Hermione? I'm thinking he's finally accepted her as a member of the family.

I made up the wizarding derby, in case you didn't figure it out. I was thinking about it and I'm like, "Why the hell is Quidditch the only sport in the Wizarding world? That doesn't seem right." Especially when you consider the Muggle World has baseball, basketball, football, soccer, rugby, croquet... the list goes on. I mean, there's the Triwizard Tournament, but that's mostly for children to create unity between schools. (Though, to be honest, I think having a bunch of children, 17 or not, fight a fucking mother dragon is fucking ridiculous. That would be like putting a kid in a pen with a mother bear and giving them only a bow to defend themselves.) So, I'm thinking wizarding derby, which is a lot like polo. Which translates to Tass needs to start doing some research now, lol!


	29. Chapter 29

No one mentioned the hug or Lucius's outburst. Ginny forgave him, not knowing what else to do. No one spoke much, even after Theodore tried to break the energy. Narcissa had taken her husband to bed and had thanked the Potters, as well as Luna and Theodore, for coming. It didn't take long for the younger group to decide to go their separate ways for the night.

Hermione sat on the bed in her and Draco's manor. Her hair had always been askew, but tonight it was different. There, on her shoulder, was a water mark where Lucius had hidden his tears. Of course, it had long since dried, but the memory of it was still at the forefront of the Muggle born's thoughts. How broken was he that he would react that way? She could still feel the warmth of his arms around her body, his large hands tangled in her hair. He had held her like… like a drowning man.

She glanced up when she heard the bathroom door open and watched her husband walk out. He had thrown his shirt over his shoulder, the belt to his trousers hung loose on his hips, though the trousers remained on his waist. As he turned to the dresser, Hermione could see the top of his y-fronts peeking out from underneath. Draco opened the drawer that he kept all of his undershirts in and stopped.

"I've never seen him like that before," he confessed to the drawer. Hermione remained quiet. "It's all his fault, the Dark Lord. I've never known my father to be so…" He looked up into the mirror and stared at her reflection. "My father was a great man. He may not have been well liked and he may have been prejudice, but he has always been my father. He could do anything, and I had so much faith in him. He was my hero…" His eyes went back down and Hermione knew he was looking at his Mark. "That thing destroyed us," he snarled nastily.

It was the first time Hermione ever witnessed Draco start to scratch at his Mark. As she watched, she realized he wasn't scratching at it. He was trying to dig his fingers into his own skin. The Muggle born quickly got up from the bed and went to him. She touched his arm. "Draco," she said softly, grabbing his hand. "Draco, you have to stop."

"I want it off of me!" he snapped, not looking at her as he continued to dig. "I hate this thing. I hate what it represents. I hate what it's done to my family. I hate it! I'm going to carve it out."

He grabbed his wand at the same time she did. His shirt lay forgotten on the floor. "Don't!" she cried.

They both held onto the wand and he struggled to pull it away from her. "Let it go, Hermione," he ordered. "I'm going to get rid of this filth once and for all."

"How?" she demanded. "You're going to cut off your own arm?"

His stormy grey eyes stared into hers. "If that's what it take, then, yes, I will. I want this fucker off of me. I'm sick of looking at it."

"Voldemort…"

"Don't say that name!" he snapped. "I never want to hear that name from your mouth again. Do you understand?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Fear of the name…"

"It's not fear of the name, you silly girl," he growled, giving her a look that reminded her so much of their Hogwarts years. "That Dementor doesn't deserve a fucking name. He was a useless despot whose only goal in life was to suck the happiness out of anyone and everyone he met. He destroyed lives. Look at my father, Hermione! Look at what that arsehole did to my father! Do you think he would have acted that way eight years ago? My father was the epitome of decorum and sophistication. He would have never done what he did tonight." Giving up the wand struggle, Draco released the wand and pushed past the Gryffindor. He stared down at his hands. "I watched him get tortured," he told her. "I watched that monster torture my father and…" he shuttered, "there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it."

The witch just stood there. For someone so smart, so bright, Hermione was at a loss for words. She wasn't sure what had shocked her more: that Lucius had held her the way he had, or the things Draco was telling her now. She thought over the way Lucius had acted in prison and since he was released. If she hadn't witnessed it first hand, she never would have believed the things her husband was telling her now. She knew she had to do something. She rested her head on his shoulder as his body racked with his sadness. She could feel her own tears falling from her eyes and knew she was getting his bare shoulder wet.

He turned slightly and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her small body much like his father had done. Hermione didn't know how long they had stood there, quietly sobbing, but she held him. Her fingers ran along his spine and over his shoulder blades in slow, soothing circles. She thought about his Mark and about how he'll never be able to get rid of it completely. It was like a tattoo and… She stopped. She pulled away from him enough so she could look up into his tear-streaked face.

"Get dressed," she said. "Clean your face, comb your hair, and put a shirt on." She broke their embrace as she went to the closet and pulled out her favourite pair of jeans and a light green blouse.

"Hermione?" he asked curiously.

Once she changed, she began rooting through his shirts and pulled out a green polo with the Slytherin crest printed on the left side of the chest. Walking out of the closet, she threw the shirt at him. "Here. Wear that," she ordered as she tucked their wands under her trouser leg.

He looked gobsmacked as he did as she ordered, taking a moment to fix his belt. "What are we doing?" he asked.

"I'm taking you to a tattoo parlour," she explained. "We're going to get rid of that ridiculous Mark once and for all."

(II)(II)

They had made it into Muggle London without saying a word to one another. Hermione held Draco's hand and practically dragged him down the streets to a rather dodgy part of the city that had the Pureblood's eyes darting back and forth nervously. "Are you sure this is a good idea, love?" he asked as he saw a Muggle woman dressed in scant clothing wink at him.

"I am," she told him. "It's time to turn that blasted thing into something positive. He's dead. He can't hurt you, your father, or me anymore.

"Yes, but…" he argued as he saw two Muggle men standing next to one another whispering to each other and giving him a look that made him wonder if they were actually thinking of mugging him. "Is this even the right area?"

She waved her free hand at him. "Of course it is. There's a man here who knows how to take a disaster and turn it into a real work of art," she explained, "if his shop is still he… Ah! There it is!" She pointed to a small, seemingly cramped little shop that was guarded by two larger shops on either side of it. The dusty old window had a neon sign that simply read "Tattoos".

"How do you know this place?" Draco asked as they crossed the street.

When Hermione opened the door a small bell jingled and they heard a gruff voice from the back of the shop yell, "Be righ' wit' ya."

Draco's eyes widened as he looked around the room. The walls were covered with all kinds of paper drawings and photographs of, what Draco assumed, was the man's work. He had to hand it to the guy, the photos were really nice. There was a table set up near the back of the shop with a lamp attached to it and other things that Draco had no idea what they were. There were ink stains everywhere, too, of all different colours, but mostly black. Draco was looking at a peculiar drawing of some woman wearing little clothing and a pair of wings when the man entered the room.

"Hermione!" the man shouted, calling Draco's attention. "It's been too long, lass. Come 'ere and gimme a hug."

The Muggle born giggled and, slipping her hand out of Draco's, went to hug the pot-bellied man. Draco took a moment to study the guy. He was older, probably around the same age as Lucius, and had long dark hair that he kept tied back and a black moustache. He wore a simple white undershirt and jeans with what looked like combat boots. There were tattoos all down both of the man's arms. Draco did the best he could to hide his distaste as Hermione brought the man to him.

"Draco, I would like you to meet an old friend of the family. This is Uncle Eddy," she introduced. She smiled up at the man who was almost a head taller than Draco with muscles that reminded the Pureblood of Goyle. Draco made note of this and gave the man a short, nervous smile as Hermione looked up at the man lovingly and said, "Eddy, I would like you to meet my husband, Draco Malfoy."

"Husband?!" the Muggle sputtered, looking down at her. "My little Hermione done gone an' gotten 'erself married an' didna bother ta tell me 'bout it. Guessin' ye weren't thnkin' 'bout yer ol' Uncle Eddy, aye?"

Hermione flushed and looked down. "My parents don't know yet either, to be honest," she told him.

"An' 'ow is Hugo an' th' lovely Rose?" he asked as he sat in one of the chairs. He indicated two more chairs. "Go on and stay awhile."

Draco looked dubiously at the ink stained chair and silently wished he had his wand so he could cast a repelling charm. He waited for Hermione to sit before posting himself precariously on the end of the chair.

"Last I checked, they were doing well," Hermione answered, and Draco caught the way she hesitated in her answer, even if it was so minute that people like Eddy didn't catch it.

The Muggle nodded as his black eyes stared at Draco. "Ya takin' care o' 'er, lad?" he asked, giving Draco a look so threatening the Pureblood had to stop himself from shrinking or lashing out. The man was about three times Draco's size and the Slytherin didn't have a wand.

The Pureblood wizard nodded. "Yes, sir. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I make sure she knows that every day," he replied.

"Damn righ' she's the best!" the man agreed. "Though' 'bout getting' one o' me boys to marry 'er. Woulda, too, iffen she didna disappear so offen."

_God, this man was worse than talking to Hagrid_, thought Draco, though he kept his features passive. He said nothing in response, though Hermione did speak, "It was the best school, uncle. Perfect for people like me. It's where I met Draco."

The Muggle waved a dismissive hand. "Long as 'e's treatin' ya righ', Hermione, I got nothing against 'im. So, what can I do ya fer today?" he asked, getting to business.

The witch took her husband's left arm and turned it over to show it to the Muggle. "We want to get this covered," she explained, "in such a way that it, quite literally, ceases to exist."

"Oooohhh," the man purred as he took Draco's arm and examined the Mark. "It's a bit faded, but it's such a beautiful piece of art," he said, running a finger over it. He glanced at Hermione and then at Draco. "Why ya wanna get rid o' it?" he asked curiously.

"I hate it," Draco growled, trying his best to keep from yanking his arm out of the Muggle's rough hands.

The witch gave a small smile. "What he means to say," she corrected, "is that he had gotten this tattoo when he was sixteen on a dare. Shortly after, the people who talked him into doing it… well, the memories are too horrific. We're just trying to move past all the nightmares."

The older man nodded. "Say no more," he commented and looked at Draco, showing the wizard his own tattoo covered arm. "I used to 'ave a tattoo o' this really beautiful Spanish girl, real Senorita, bu' then she turned ugly. Took me months to get rid of 'er."

Draco blanched. "This won't take months…?"

The man gave a burly, belly laugh and shook his head. "Fer a li'l thing like that? Nah. Question is, though, what'cha wan' in its place?"

Draco shook his head. "Anything is better than the skull and snake," he answered.

Eddy smirked and glanced at Hermione. She smiled. "What about… Uncle Eddy, do you still do dragons?"

The Muggle's smile widened. "I do. What'cha thinkin', princess?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Well, Draco is Latin for 'dragon', and he loves the colour green, so…You're an artist, Uncle Eddy, and I trust you. You can make something nice, can't you?"

Eddy stared at Draco's arm for a while as he thought. "Can ya gimme a day or two to think 'bout it?" he asked the witch. "I got an idea, but I need ta draw it out first."

Hermione glanced at her husband for a moment before nodded in the affirmative. "I think we can do that," she said.

It was Draco's turn to grab Hermione's arm and show the man the scar. "What about this? Think you can cover this, too?" he asked.

"Blimey, Hermione!" the man exclaimed. "What the devil 'appened to yer arm? What's a 'Mudblood'?"

She tried to pull her arm out of Draco's grasp, but Eddy took it and traced the letters. She glared at Draco, but the Pureblood didn't make eye contact with her. Instead, his eyes were focused on the scar. "There was this girl in school," he explained. "She hated Hermione, no doubt jealous of my wife's brains and beauty, and thought it'd be funny to hold Hermione down and carve that word into her skin. See, at school, the term 'Mudblood' was used to reference those who were… lower class. It's a slur and I don't want it on my wife's arm any longer, because it wasn't good and she's not what the word implies."

Eddy nodded. "Wha' 'appened to the girl? Does Hugo an' Rose know 'bout this?"

Hermione shook her head. "They weren't home when it happened and I don't really get to speak much to them. At least not while they are away."

"Still, 'Mione," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Ya shoulda told 'em. Yer dad's not gonna be happy when he 'ears 'bout this. Or 'bout that scar on yer arm. Wha' 'appened to the girl?"

Hermione and Draco looked at one another, trying to find the right words. Finally, Draco took a deep breath and said, "She was expelled and sent away. She can't harm anyone anymore."

The man nodded. "Good," he said, though he didn't look very pleased. "I'll see wha' I can do, just, like I said, I'll need a couple days."

The Muggle born gave the man a small smile and squeezed Draco's hand as she replied, "Thank you, Uncle Eddy. It will mean the world to us both."

(III)(III)

When they returned home, Draco made a beeline to the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes on the way. "I've never seen so much filth in my life," he groused as he turned on the shower.

Hermione had followed him into the bathroom and looked at him oddly. "Honestly, it wasn't that bad," she huffed. "And Uncle Eddy's shop is by far one of the cleanest in all of London."

"'Uncle Eddy'," the Pureblood scoffed as he slipped under the hot waters. "How do you know a joker like that? I swear listening to him was like listening to nails on a chalk board."

"Don't be a tosser, Draco," she fussed. "Uncle Eddy happens to be an old schoolmate of my father's. They used to play rugby together and he was the best man at my parents' wedding."

"Sounds like more than a schoolmate, love," he said as he washed his hair and body. "Adrian Pucey was a schoolmate of mine and you didn't see me inviting him to our wedding or asking him to be my best man like we were chums. And we even played Quidditch together."

"Adrian... Wasn't he a Chaser?" she asked as she listened to him turn the water off and watched him step out of the shower.

"You should shower," he recommended. "Just the air on that street was filthy." He grabbed a clean, white towel and dried himself off before wrapping it around his hips. "How do you know Pucey?"

She shook her head. "I don't," she admitted. "But Harry and Ron were always a bit obsessed with Quidditch and, with my crush on Ron, I wanted to know who was playing on each team. I think Parvarti had a bit of a crush on him, though she used to whine about how he was a Slytherin and, therefore, unapproachable."

He frowned at that. "Why?" he asked, sitting on the bench next to her.

"He was a Slytherin," she repeated as if that explained everything. "People in Gryffindor didn't date Slytherins because they knew they would be teased mercilessly. So, most of the time, she and Lavender just sat up in the girls' dormitory and daydreamed out loud about it." She looked at the wizard. "Even talking about it, they were teased, but it wasn't too bad. Most people shucked it off because they were always talking about one bloke or another."

His frown deepened. "Did they say anything about me?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She smirked at him. "When didn't they?" was her response. "Richest bloke in school and handsome to boot? You were often the topic of their discussions when they weren't talking about Harry or Ron. In fact, many girls seemed to think you were a bit of a ladies' man, even when you were dating Pansy." She gave a little giggle at his look of distaste.

"I can count on one hand how many girls I've slept with," he told her. "And that's including you. If they wanted a 'ladies' man', they were better off talking about Nott."

"Oh, they did," she assured him. "You were just their favourite. You, Theo, and Blaise were called the 'Princes of Slytherin', though you were the one with the actual crown. Even in Gryffindor girls wanted you and were immensely jealous when you took Pansy, of all people, to the Ball."

Draco had heard the titles before, so that didn't really phase him much. "If Gryffindors weren't allowed to date Slytherins, then why the bloody hell would they be jealous over who I took to the dance?"

"I didn't say teenage girls were rational thinkers," she pointed out with a small smile.

He sighed. "Are you going to shower or not?" he asked.

She nodded and stood up. "I really hope you didn't use all the hot water," she commented as she walked over to the shower and turned it on.

He looked confused. "How would I do that?" he questioned.

Hermione giggled as she undressed and stepped into the shower.

(IV)(IV)

The next couple days left Hermione in agony as she worried over the tattoos. She had wanted to get Draco one because she knew he needed it. It was the surest way for him to get rid of the Mark. For herself, however, she was antsy about the idea. She had hated when Bellatrix had carved that foul word into her arm. She hated it even more that the word was now scarred. But it almost made her wonder if covering it with a tattoo was worth it. She wasn't, after all, ashamed of it, much like Draco had been with his Dark Mark. But she knew it was important to Draco, for whatever reason, so she agreed in the end.

Eddy had called her, asking if it was just the Mark or if Draco wouldn't mind going a bit bigger. "Just tell him not to cover my whole bloody arm," was Draco's response. "I've seen his arms and I'm not impressed."

Hermione had nodded, but was intrigued by Draco's mood swings. She knew he was still getting over seeing his father cry. Narcissa had informed Hermione that Lucius had taken to drinking again, something both she and Draco had worked hard to get him to overcome the first time he had gotten out of prison. Remembering what Lucius had been like when she and the boys had gotten captured by the Snatchers, Hermione wasn't too keen on seeing the man drunk again.

Hermione had forgotten that a gun was used to help create tattoos and, therefore, was unprepared for the wild look that lit Draco's eyes upon seeing it. It took her almost three hours to coax him to the chair, for even though he was scared, Draco still wanted to get rid of the Mark. "Why can't he just wave a wand and be done with it?" the Pureblood asked stupidly as he eyed the contraption warily.

The Muggle born shook her head and sighed. "He's not a wizard, my prince," she told him patiently, knowing Eddy was right in the other room. "Now, please, sit down," she begged. "It'll be over before you know it. You just need to relax and remember why we're doing this."

Eddy reentered the room. "If you like, we can try this again in th' morning," he suggested as he sat down in his chair. "Maybe by then your 'usband can grow a pair an' stop actin' like a babe attached to his mum's teet."

Hermione's eyes widened, but the words were out of Draco's mouth before she could stop him. "How dare you! You disgusting, overweight Muggle!" he spat, glaring at the man. "You have no idea what you're talking about. My mother…"

"Draco," the Muggle born pleaded. She touched his arm. "Please calm down. He was just…"

"Don't tell me to calm down, witch," he growled at her. "He has no idea what I've been through, what we've been through. We all nearly died because of that despot! And if we had died then his lot surely would've been next."

Hermione paled as Eddy looked from Draco to the witch. "Hermione, what is he talking about?" the man asked slowly, enunciating each word for the first time.

The witch closed her eyes as her brain raced a million different directions. Draco had just put them both in a delicate situation and she had to tread carefully. When she opened her eyes, she could see the wizard had realized what he had said by the pallor of his face and the horror in his eyes.

Licking her lips, she croaked, "Draco and I were the smartest kids in the school." She swallowed and straightened her throat. Sitting in her chair, she continued a little stronger, "Because of this, we were often allowed to be part of things most students wouldn't." She looked at the Muggle. "There was a plot by this dangerous criminal. A plot that, if he succeeded, would have killed us all. We," she indicated herself and Draco, "along with some friends of ours, managed to stop this madman and bring him to justice before he could carry out his plan."

The Muggle glanced from Hermione to Draco and back again. "Why 'aven't I 'eard 'bout this? Who was this guy? What were children doin' goin' after him?" he asked rapidly, his tone becoming angry as he glared at the witch.

Hermione shook her head. "Not many knew. For most of it, Draco and his family were held captive. The Mark burned on Draco's arm is a reminder of that time. This isn't just something done on a dare like I said before," she admitted. "Draco did what he had to do to keep his family safe, otherwise that criminal would have killed them all."

"Sounds like a cheap gangster movie," the Muggle commented with a gruff. "Ya still didna answer my questions, lass. Don't ye be thinkin' yer gettin' away with tha."

"I wish I could tell you more," she said and she really meant it. "However, we've been asked to remain silent on the matter. The government doesn't want word getting out because it would start a panic. There would be lynch mobs and witch hunts over something that has already happened and been dealt with. The criminal is dead now. His associates are either dead or serving life sentences in prison." She paused for a moment before continuing, "Do you remember me talking about my friend, Harry Potter?"

The man grunted, "I remember. What's 'e got ta do with it?"

The bushy haired girl sighed. "He was the one the criminal was after," she admitted. "Over some sleight, he wanted to kill Harry and his entire family. Actually succeeded for the most part, left Harry an orphan as a babe. When he discovered Harry managed to survive, his thirst for blood became his obsession. In the end, Harry killed the man, though it nearly cost him his own life."

The Muggle shook his head. "I don' understand any of it," he told her. Then, he looked at Draco and added, "But then, I'm supposin' an ol' Muggle like me isn't meant to, ain't that right, lad?"

Embarrassed by his own outburst, Draco's cheeks reddened and he looked away. "I shouldn't've called you that," he said, "and I apologize. It's just… I really need to get this thing off my arm." He cast his eyes upward, meeting the man's black orbs. "Will you help me do that?"

After a moment's thought, the man nodded.

(V)(V)

The pen hurt, but Draco clenched his jaw and bore the pain. After all, it was so much better than when he lived under the roof of his home with Voldemort. He watched as the Muggle drew the patterns on his arm, outlining the dragon. "You'll need to come back innabout a week to finish it, lad," the tattoo artist said. "Got any colours you prefer fer th' dragon?"

Draco glanced at the man. Despite all the things the Pureblood had said to the Muggle, Eddy had still agreed to do the tattoo. "Green and silver?" the wizard suggested. "Those were the colours of my House."

"Wha'bout yer family? You rich lot usually 'ave colours you prefer to represent yer family."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Green, silver, and black," he answered, causing the Muggle to chuckle.

"Green an' silver it is, then," the older man responded before turning to Hermione. "Now, l'il lass, it's yer turn."

Hermione swallowed and gave a nod. Like Draco, she just clenched her jaw against the pain. After surviving the Cruciatus and having your arm carved into with a knife, a tattoo was nothing. Once they were finished, Eddy gave the two instructions on how to care for the tattoos and when to return. Even Hermione needed to come back for the colouring, but she was fine with that.

Once they returned home, the wedded couple cared for and bandaged one another's tattoos.

"Father's going to kill me," Draco commented.

Hermione glanced up at him. "Why do you say that?" she asked, her face full of concern.

He shook his head and sighed. "It isn't exactly proper, love," he told her. "Muggle tattoos? It's a bit…"

"Liberating?" she suggested. "If anything your father should be proud that you took 'the bull by the horns' so to speak. You turned something terrible into something positive."

"I get it, Hermione," he said, laying back on the bed. He looked at his wrapped arm. "How do you think he's going to colour yours?"

She shrugged as she joined him on the bed. "He knows my favourite colours, though I honestly could see him implementing your colours into it as well. Eddy's a bit of a sap when it comes to young love and romance. He married his wife at a young age and they stayed married up until she passed on."

He stared up at the ceiling. "I didn't know that," he commented, though in all honesty, he couldn't figure out how he would have known.

Groaning, he casually turned over to drape across Hermione and bury his face in her wet hair. The Muggle born giggled as she felt him nuzzle his nose against her, tickling her neck. He slipped his hand under her camisole and began kneading her breast, flicking his thumb over her nipple. She giggled some more and arched her back.

Lifting his head, he kissed her lips slowly and sensually, his hand holding her breast as caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinched it. She gave a soft moan and he repositioned himself between her legs. He pressed his hard on against her core and they both groaned. "We need to get out of these clothes," he whispered in her ear.

She couldn't think of a better idea as he began tugging on her jeans and she pulled her blouse over her head. They were both naked within moments and snogging each other with all the passion they could muster. She gasped loudly when he entered her. "Oh, God!"

Clenching his teeth, Draco rested his weight on his elbows as he continued to thrust into her. Looking down at her, his mouth opened in a small "O" and he gave her a short smile as she arched up into him.

"Draco, please," she breathed.

Sitting up, he grabbed her hips and pulled her into his lap. "Lift your legs, love," he commanded.

As she did as he requested he grabbed her legs and brought them up above his head. Sitting on his knees, he bent her legs and plunged back into her. She gave a loud shout at the depth as he began thrusting into her hard.

"Like that?" he asked, staring at her with lust-filled eyes.

"Hurts," she managed to get out between shouts and pants.

He tilted his head and slowed his pace. "Would you like me to stop?" he asked as he gave her a look of concern.

She shook her head. "Don't you dare!" she growled. She grabbed onto his biceps and glared at him. "Fuck me, Malfoy."

He had never seen her hotter than he had in that moment. Smirking, he dug his fingers into her hips. "Yes, ma'am," he said as he picked up his pace.

He fucked her a bit longer in that position before flipping her onto her stomach and ploughing into her from behind. He then turned her onto her side and draped one of her legs over his shoulder. Leaning forward, he forced her to pull her leg close to her body while bending at the knee and he fucked her from that angle. They came together and he nearly collapsed on top of her. At the last moment, he rolled off to the side onto his back.

He closed his eyes and rested his hand, with the bandaged arm, on his chest. Hermione crawled up against him and draped her bandaged arm across him, causing him to wrap his other arm around her small waist.

"I love you, Draco," she whispered.

Opening his eyes, he stared up at the ceiling again. "I love you, too," he said softly and sent a silent prayer up to the heavens, praying that this time, it would take.

(VI)(VI)

"Damn it!" came her shout from the bathroom.

Draco rolled over and, blinking, looked at the door. "Hermione?" he called. "Are you alright, love?"

She stormed out of the bathroom and went into the closet. "No!" she shouted. "No, I'm not alright," she said as she emerged from the closet with a blouse in her hand.

The Pureblood sat up and glanced at her in concern. "What is it?" he asked.

She roared as she threw the shirt on the bed. "I'm not bloody pregnant!" she snarled. "We've been fucking like rabbits for over a month now and still nothing!"

His eyebrows raised at her proclamation. "You've said it yourself that these things do take time. It'll be alright."

"It will be," she declared, "because I'm going to St. Mungo's and getting a thorough exam. And then I'm going to take the results and shove them down your bloody father's fucking throat! I swear if I hear one more word, Draco," she growled, "I'm going to ring his bloody neck."

"I'll talk to him," Draco said, remaining calm. "He can be a bit pushy at times, especially when there's something he wants. Can't tell you how many times he had cast a Sticking Spell on my chair when he was teaching me reading and math."

"This isn't school, Draco," she argued. "This is our lives. More than that. I can understand pushing for better grades, but you can't force someone to have children. We've been trying that and it's not working."

She began pacing the floor. "Neither of us are on any form of birth control," she commented, thinking aloud. "You always come inside me. We have sex every day. I…" She stopped and looked at him. "Maybe it's not the right time of month? My mother used to always tell me that a girl has to be at the right time of month to get pregnant. I'll have to run to the bookstore and research it."

The Slytherin watched his wife as she continued to ramble about pregnancy and the right time and a bunch of other things he had no clue of. What he did know was that seeing her like this made him love her more. She was so passionate and fiery that she reminded him of their days at Hogwarts when he first fell in love with her.

Draco was no idiot. After being married to this beautiful witch for a month he was finally willing to admit to himself that he had loved her from the moment he had met her. "I'm looking for a toad," her young voice echoed through his mind. It really was the weirdest thing for him to remember her saying, but there it was. Bushy hair, buck teeth, and freckles… he had been smitten and spent the next four years trying to convince himself otherwise.

She had grown into her teeth, her freckles had all but faded, but her hair was still as wild as ever, though she often tried to tame it with different products. She was a swan in his eyes. Her courage, her intellect, and her strength only enhanced those features he loved.

In the back of his mind, a worry gnawed at him. What if the problem wasn't with her? He knew Purebloods were known for having problems with conceiving children. What if there was something wrong with him? Listening to her ramble, he made a mental note to make an appointment to see a Healer himself. If it was his fault, he had no idea how he was going to fix the problem, but he was determined to do whatever it took to keep her. He wouldn't let something as miniscule as infertility keep them from having a happy life together.

"It's for the best," she finally said, pulling him back to reality. He blinked and stared at her curiously. "We're getting these tattoos," she told him. "I can't exactly get pregnant during the process. We could accidentally give the child ink poisoning. That, I think, would be worse than not getting pregnant. Still, I do have to see the Healer. Wouldn't you agree?"

Blinking again, he gave her a slow nod. "Perhaps we should both get checked," he suggested. "The problem could lie with either of us and I would hate to see you upset over something that is my fault."

"I don't blame you," she started, but he lifted a hand to stop her.

"I never said you did," he told her. "But the idea is still there, love. It takes two people to create a baby. The problem could lie just as easily with me as it could you."

She nodded. "Right. I'll Floo St. Mungo's and make an appointment for the both of us. Does that sound fair enough?"

He smiled. "More than fair. Now, can I go back to sleep or was there something else you wanted to discuss so early in the morning?"

"Early?" she repeated, frowning. "You are such a spoiled prince, did you know that? It's noon."

He threw her a cocky smirk and lay back down on the bed. "Which is why I should go back to sleep. It's far too early."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and laughed.

(VII)(VII)

So the fault did not lie with Draco. Nor did it rest on Hermione's shoulders. "You are just too stressed," the Healer had told them. "Too much, too soon. You need to relax. Let things happen the way they should. You are both two health, vibrant young adults with healthy sexual appetites. Just relax."

Hermione gave her husband a sidelong glance. "It's almost like we're being told we need a vacation," she complained.

He shrugged. "I'm up for it. Where would you like to go?"

The Muggle born shook her head. "We have the derby to go to in a couple weeks and then your mother is throwing me some sort of birthday celebration. Never mind the proposals I have Kingsley looking over right now and you have a ton of work to do at the Manor. We don't have time to go on a vacation."

"We don't need a lot of time," he surmised. "The derby is in a couple weeks, that gives us two weeks to do whatever the bloody hell we want and Kingsley can always send you an owl after he's gone over your proposals."

"And the Manor?" she asked, looking at him.

Draco sighed. "Father has managed to handle the estate for almost thirty years on his own. A week isn't going to kill him. Besides, it might give him the edge he needs. Mother says he's taken to drinking again."

"You told me that," the witch pointed out.

"So, a week then?" he questioned. "We can go anywhere you like and just relax."

She studied him for a long moment, thinking over his suggestion. "America?" she asked. "I've heard that New Orleans has some of the best seafood and I wouldn't mind seeing a Broadway musical."

He lifted an eyebrow. "You do realize New Orleans and New York are several thousands of miles away from one another, right?"

She nodded. "I do, but we have magic. Once we get over there, it's only an Apparation or two away."

He stared at her. "If you're actually agreeing to go," he said finally, "then I have no problem with it."

She snapped her fingers. "Oh, right! I forgot. We have to get our tattoos finished," she said. "Which means Uncle Eddy will be expecting us in a few days."

"Didn't my mother tell you not to snap your fingers?" he asked, frowning at the reminder. He pulled his sleeve back and looked at the tattoo on his arm.

The Muggle had done some amazing work. Draco could hardly see the Dark Mark anymore, though he knew right where it was. However, there was still a few lines that he knew were the Mark and he knew going back to the parlour would solve the problem. "We can finish the tattoos at any time," he said. "The Healer said we needed to relax, what better way to relax than…"

"I know what the Healer said," the Muggle born replied as she slipped on a blue blouse. "I can't finish the tattoo if I'm carrying a child, Draco."

His bottom lip poked out a little. "Why not?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ink poisoning?" she said in disbelief.

He sighed. "Then let's go finish this tattoo quickly so we can go on our vacation. I want to follow the Healer's instructions. You were right. We should've gotten pregnant by now."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted children, she truly did. But the consistent sex and lack of an end result reminded her of why she had kept putting off her wedding to Ron. She wanted children, yes, but she also wanted a career. She began to wonder why Lucius and Narcissa were pressing so hard about the pregnancy, or lack thereof. Was it because they genuinely wanted grandchildren? Or were they actively trying to force Hermione into more of a housewife role?

She recalled a moment when Narcissa had let slip that once Hermione had children, she would want to stay home more. "Children need constant attention," the older witch had told her.

She started paying more attention to the matron and her husband, listening to both what they were saying and what they were not. Narcissa had told her several times that she had responsibilities within the family, but Hermione had already known that. The Muggle born was also well aware that Narcissa was beginning to prep her for a more matronly role. This, of course, did make sense to the younger witch as she knew the current matron wouldn't be around forever, but they were all still young. Hermione wasn't worried about her abilities as future Matron Malfoy. Regardless of how much she worked at the Ministry, the Muggle born still found time to follow her mother-in-law around and learn about the social circles and putting together parties.

Lucius was much the same way. Every time she was around the man, the first question he would ask her regarded her pregnancy. When she gave him a negative answer, which was all the time, he would make comments that made her feel as though she was doing something wrong. Try harder. Have more sex. Don't ever deny Draco. These were given as mere suggestions, of course, but she could see the underlining idea. For whatever reason, Lucius wanted her pregnant. And that, to the Muggle born, was enough to cause concern.

She sighed as she slipped her wand into a holster on her leg. "We'll go tomorrow," she told him as she pulled her trousers on and slipped on her Ministry robes. "And after the tattoos are finished, we'll take a short vacation."

Draco nodded, but frowned. He knew the look in her eyes. She had slipped into her business mindset.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Happy New Years! Feels like it's been a whole year since I last saw any of ya. *Giggles from the corniness* Ok. So, that was an interesting and relatively emotional chapter... I'm already working on the next chapter, so it will be coming soon, lovelies. Please don't forget to review. I really do love reading your comments.

**SereniteRose:** Yeah, that's what I get from Ron and his mum as well. Although, Molly is a little more mellow in this story. I think most of her outbursts would happen away from the public eye, like at home, were being an overbearing, mollycoddling woman is "acceptable". When will Hermione get pregnant? Hmmm... *Wink*

**Chester99:** I'm glad you like my derby idea. Just wait until you see what I cooked up. Hope it doesn't disappoint!

I am a bit disappointed that I didn't get as much Lunadore (Theona) love as I thought I would get, but no worries. You'll get to see these two in action some more. One good thing about a couple that's dating that both Draco and Hermione like is that we'll get to see more interaction. (And yes, you will get to see some more Lucissa, too. Trust me. Those two are a major part of Draco and Hermione's lives. Always.


	30. Chapter 30

The tattoos turned out amazing. Eddy had given them both a 3D look that made it seem like the dragons were actually sitting on their arms rather than looking flat. To Hermione's surprise, Draco's dragon turned out to look very much like a Hungarian Horntail and the Slytherin looked quite proud of it.

"It actually looks like the dragon is digging its claws into my skin," he said, astounded.

Hermione smiled and glanced down at her own tattoo. Her dragon was poised, its wings flared out, as though it was getting ready to fly right off her arm. "Eddy's always done incredible work," she commented as she pressed a finger gently to the tattoo. She leaned against her husband. "They both look fantastic."

"Maybe Father won't be angry after all?"

Whether Lucius was angry or not, the patriarch did not say. In fact, he gave little notice to the tattoos when he saw them, though his wife did manage to articulate her own displeasure.

"It really isn't right for a lady to mark her skin," she said absently as she stared at Hermione's tattoo.

"It really wasn't right for a lady to carve the word 'Mudblood' in my skin, either, but it still happened," the Muggle born retorted a bit more shrewdly than she had meant. "At least I chose this and won't be ashamed to show it off at all."

Though in all honesty, Hermione hadn't been ashamed to show off the scar either, but the new tattoo did look a bit more respectable in her opinion. People were rather rude when they saw the scar, demanding to know why she would carve such a nasty word into her skin. At least the tattoo complimented Draco's and she could pass it off as such.

Much to Hermione's displeasure, she could see the hurt in Narcissa's eyes at her comment. "I'm sorry, Mother," the younger witch said softly, touching the older woman's arm. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh. It's just…"

Narcissa nodded and patted the girl's hand. "I know," she said with tears in her eyes. "My sister was cruel and vicious. As much as I hate to admit it, though, you're right. Better to have something more positive and I do like how it looks almost like a continuation of Draco's tattoo. Or perhaps a companion?" She looked at her son. "Are they Horntails?"

He shrugged. "If they are, the man's a genius," he told her. "The bloke Hermione had taken us to was a Muggle. I doubt he knew anything about our world."

The young witch giggled. "I wouldn't be surprised, though, if they were a pair of Horntails. I remember catching my uncle flipping through a schoolbook of mine about dragons." She glanced at Draco. "Remember when we learned about…" her face fell and she frowned, glancing down at her arm. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." She sighed. "Technically we didn't learn about them. I had bought the book during a trip to Hogsmeade, right before Harry's first task in the Triwizard Tournament. I get so wrapped up in learning new things about our world that I sometimes forget what we learned in school and what I taught to myself." She shook her head. "Anyway. That summer, Uncle Eddy had come to visit us and I had forgotten the book on the couch."

"A relative of yours?" Narcissa asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head, but it was Draco who answered, "He's her dad's old mate. They went to school together and played… What was that sport called again, love?"

"Rugby," Hermione said.

The older witch inclined her head. "I do believe Lucius brought me to a game once," she admitted. "Of course, it was more out of curiosity than anything. Brutal sport."

The young witch grimaced, but nodded all the same. "I've found that most sports tend to be a bit brutal. Very competitive."

(II)(II)

About a week before the derby, Ginny had gathered the girls together and insisted upon going shopping. To Hermione delight, the young ginger was very excited and she and Luna had taken to bouncing as they looked through the various shops in Diagon Alley.

"Theodore gave me some money so I could buy myself a nice dress," Luna told the Pureblood. "I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted. Such a lovely gentleman, isn't he?"

Padma walked beside Hermione. "It's really kind of your father-in-law to indulge us," she said, looking calmly through one window. "How are you getting along with your new family, Hermione?"

Hermione shrugged. "They're not so bad," she admitted. At Padma's raised eyebrow, the Muggle born sighed. "Really, they aren't," she insisted. "Lucius had toned down from asking me every day whether I'm pregnant or not. And Narcissa… Well, she really is a lovely woman. Very calm and poised in everything she does."

"Did you receive any grief from them about your tattoo?" the dark skinned witch asked as they stepped into a shop they had seen Ginny and Luna bound into.

Hermione tilted her head in thought. "Not as much as I had imagined they would," she confessed. "Narcissa had questioned the decision, of course, but I think she liked how the tattoos seem to complement one another."

Padma touched a light beige dress with gold beads sewn onto it to give it a sort of Indian look. She grimaced and moved to another dress that was crimson in colour. "This looks nice," she said as she picked it up off the rack and checked the size.

"It is beautiful," Hermione agreed, her own eyes falling on a light blue cocktail dress with yellow and pink embroidery along the bottom. Small yellow bees looked as though they were flying from one pink flower to another.

"That is cute," the Ravenclaw started, "if you wish to give your in-laws the impression that you really are pregnant."

Hermione quickly put it back and picked up a grass green cocktail dress. She rolled her eyes. "More green," she said giving Padma a look that made the other girl chuckle.

"You're married to a Slytherin," the Indian witch told her. "I think the both of us can expect to see a lot of green in our lives from now on. Might as well get used to it."

Hermione tilted her head. "Has Blaise proposed?" she asked, holding her breath and covering her mouth with her hand.

Padma shook her head. "No, but it's really only a matter of time, isn't it?" she said as she picked up a pink dress similar to the one Hermione was holding. "They aren't looking for easy shags anymore. These boys, or young men rather, come from really old wizarding families, don't they? It's really common for such families to marry young. In fact, I think even my own parents married at a young age, though my mother is a Muggle born." She grabbed another cocktail dress that was a darker blue than the one Hermione had held previously and handed it to the Gryffindor. "That might look nice on you," she said. "It's all about getting married and giving birth to the next generation of wizards for them. Though, having children is rather difficult, especially for the old wizarding families."

"I've heard that," Hermione said. "Draco had told me that it had taken his parents four or five times before they gave birth to him."

"It's all that inbreeding," Padma hissed. "You see it with the rest of the animal kingdom. Most animals don't do it and those who do? The offspring usually come out with some sort of deformity, whether physical or mental. It happens among humans, too, and even more so." The Ravenclaw shook her head as she grabbed a yellow dress from Hermione's hands. "No, don't try that," she said. "Your skin is too pale, your hair is too dark, and it'll really wash you out. Try the dress I picked out for you."

The two went to the dressing rooms where Ginny and Luna were taking turns trying on various dresses and giggling. Hermione smiled at her friends as she slipped into one of the stalls and began changing into the blue dress Padma had picked out for her. The cocktail dress buttoned at the neck and had a dip along the back of it. Hermione frowned at the fact that she wouldn't be able to wear a bra with it. On the plus side, the skirt seemed to flare out, the trim dancing along her knees whenever she turned.

She stepped out from the stall and all three of her friends smiled at her. "Oh, Hermione!" Ginny gushed. "You look so beautiful. Draco's going to surely die when he sees you."

"That is a pretty dress," Luna agreed. She glanced at the Indian girl standing next to her. "Are you going to try on your dress?"

Padma held the crimson dress in her hands and glanced down at it, debating. "I suppose I should," she sighed as she slipped into a stall herself to try it on.

By the time Padma emerged, Hermione had already changed back into her regular clothes. The dress Padma wore was tight fitting and fell down to her knees. There were no arms to the dress. Instead it seemed to be held up by Padma's breasts, giving her a nice amount of cleavage. "I'll need to charm it so it doesn't fall off," she said as she looked at herself in a mirror.

Hermione gave a low whistle. "If Blaise doesn't propose at the game, I'm going to smack him upside his head," the Gryffindor witch stated and the other two girls nodded in agreement.

(III)(III)

The rules of wizarding derby were simple enough. Each team had four players: two for offense, one for defence, and one to protect the large pole on the ends of either field. There was one large ball about the size of a Quaffle and each person had a stick that looked much like a hockey stick with a bigger, flatter end to it. The ball floated in the middle of the air and the players had to guide it with their sticks to the other team's pole. Unlike Quidditch, the score was singular, however, extra points could be earned if the opposing team managed to dominate the ball throughout a single play. If the ball flew too high or too low, it was considered out of bounds and the play had to start over again.

It sounded easy enough, but having the players on horseback did make things a little more difficult. Penalties were given if any horse was harmed. As such, if a player had possession of the ball, then the other players were not allowed to guide their horses in front of the possessor. Furthermore, players could not sideswipe another player's horse and any bumping was cause for penalty shots.

There were other penalties as well, but Hermione didn't really worry about those. Like with Quidditch, learning about all the penalties and such would actually require a bit of research and the Muggle born had already done all of that. She had spent the week before the game studiously reading every book she could about wizarding derby.

"It really is fascinating," she was telling her husband as they began climbing to the box. "Each player is weighed and measured to insure they maintain a specific weight. For optimum speed, the horses only carry so much and if the player does not weigh enough, actual weights are added to the saddle, much like Muggle horse races."

He nodded as he opened the box door and held it for her and their friends. "You'll have to show me one of your Muggle horse races some time," he said. "I've heard they can be quite intense."

"Oh, they can be," she said offhandedly. She pointed to the field. "The ball isn't allowed to roll in front of the horses, either, in case it trips one of them up."

Draco smiled as he watched his wife turn to the other girls and listened as they chatted happily amongst themselves. "I do think this was a good idea," he commented to Nott as he sat down in one of the chairs.

Potter sat with them, watching the girls in amazement. "I do think Hermione is enjoying this game more than she did Quidditch," he said. "I remember Ginny telling me about it and it sounds interesting enough, but…"

"It's a game on horses, Potter," Zabini stated as he, too, sat down. "There's just something about a horse, or any animal, that makes girls enjoy the game more." He glanced at Draco who was still watching his wife. "I'm surprised Hermione didn't bring one of your dogs with her today."

Draco blinked and shook his head. "No," he admitted, "I haven't shown those to her yet. Knowing my luck, she'll want to keep one or two at the manor. I'm not sure I'm ready for all that yapping yet."

Zabini chuckled as he rested his arm across the back of the chair next to him. "I'm thinking of purchasing one from your father for Padma," he confessed. "She mentioned having one as a young girl, but it had passed on right before she received her letter."

Potter stared at Draco for a moment. "Your dad breeds dogs, too?"

Draco shrugged. "Not as much as he used to," he said. "He has about two mated pairs, but that's about it. His main interest is in the peacocks, the owls, and horses."

"What does he do with those peacocks anyway?" the raven haired man asked.

"Shows them," came the simple reply. "Every year he takes them to this large aviary where they are judged on beauty, grace, flight, and standard. Icicle, the bird Greyback had eaten, had been one of my father's most prized birds. He had earned three blue ribbons in his short life and could have earned more if he had lived."

"Icicle," Potter thought aloud. "Wasn't that the name of a horse? Only, Hermione had told me that Greyback had eaten a horse."

The three Purebloods looked at the Half-blood and laughed. Draco shook his head. "Hermione!" he called. "My love, come here for a moment."

The Muggle born looked at her husband curiously before excusing herself from the girls and approaching him. "Yes?" she replied as she sat beside him.

"Did you tell Potter that Greyback had eaten one of our horses?"

"I did," she answered with a look of confusion on her face. "It's what you told your father. That Icicle had been…"

He shook his head. "Icicle was a peacock, not a horse," he corrected her. "Greyback would have been trampled alive if he had attempted to eat one of the horses. Herd protection and all," he explained. "It was hard enough trying to seclude Starlight long enough to put her down, much less if anyone would attempt to hunt one of the beasts."

"Oh," she said, her eyes widened. "But you had told your father that the birds were alive. I thought you meant all of the birds."

"And I did," he confirmed. "All except for Icicle, which was probably his most prized bird. I'll have to show you some old photos later so you can see."

She nodded slowly. "I must have misunderstood. The way you made it sound, it seemed as if all of the birds made it and Greyback had eaten a horse," she said.

"I apologize for the confusion, love," he told her as he leaned over to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. "Go ahead back to your friends. The game will start soon. Oh, and make sure you root for Fiery Stallions. The number three horse is one of our own."

Hermione grinned as she nodded. "I'll let the others know that. Can't wait to see a horse bred from your father's stock actually compete."

"Not my father's stock," he corrected. "Those horses belong to the estate, so, it's our stock. They belong to all of us, though Father usually makes the decisions on them."

Hermione dipped her head and returned to the front of the box where the other witches sat and talked about the upcoming game. "Draco said to root for the Fiery Stallions," she told them as she sat back in her seat. "He said that the third horse was actually came from Malfoy Estates."

"Oh, wow!" Luna breathed. "Now that's exciting to hear. Wait! I have an idea."

Luna took her wand out and conjured a large piece of fabric. As the girls, and even the guys, watched, she made a few more complicated movements of her wand and the white sheet was suddenly emblazoned with a large, silhouette of a rearing winged stallion. A few more enchantments had the stallion actually racing around the sheet, stopping to rear each time he made a complete turn.

Taking the ends of the sheet, Luna walked to the back of the box. Theodore stood up to help her pin it to the back. "Merlin, Luna, that looks incredible," he praised.

The young Ravenclaw beamed. "I thought it would be nice to show our support."

She then did something Theodore did not expect. Waving her wand at the yellow dress she wore, she changed the colours of the dress to match the banner, complete with the running horse. "I'll have to make a hat some time, though I don't really have the time to do it right now."

Theodore smirked before he grabbed the small girl by the waist and twirled her in his arms. She threw her head back and laughed, putting her arms out and wide and bending her knees. Her laughter was infectious and as Theodore brought her down, everyone was laughing. Without even thinking about it, he pressed his lips against hers.

Hermione began clapping for the couple, she was so excited. Ginny giggled at the sight as they watched Luna wrap her arms around his neck and allow him to deepen their kiss.

The sound of a cannon caught the attentions of all of them and Theodore and Luna broke apart as the game started. Eight men on horseback flew out into the field. The Fiery Stallions wore white and yellow jerseys with rearing red stallions on them. The numbers were embroidered on the jersey arms and the saddle clothes and Hermione was quick to find and point out the third horse.

"Oh my God, he looks beautiful," the Muggle born said excitedly.

The other team, the Avenging Furies, flew in perfect uniform and wore purple and white jerseys with black running horses embroidered on them. They did a couple of circles around the field along with the Fiery Stallions before going to their positions.

One horse from each team flew over to their poles while the other horses gathered around the middle where the referee hovered, holding a large blue ball in her hands. Putting her whistle to her lips, she let the ball fall from her hands and backed her horse up. Once she was in the clear, she blew her whistle and the game was on.

The Avenging Furies had the ball first and Hermione pressed her hands on the window to get a closer look. She felt, rather than saw, as Draco stepped up next to her. "What his name?" she asked as she watched the number three horse for Fiery Stallions fly beside the other horse.

"Comet," Draco replied. "Well, technically, it's 'As Fast as a Comet', but we just call him Comet."

"Go Comet!" the Muggle born shouted.

Her words were echoed throughout the box and soon everyone was standing against the window to get closer looks at the game. Comet's rider managed to steal the ball from Avenging Furies and was guiding his horse and the ball, away from them and back towards their pole.

The girls screamed and shouted as points were made for the Fiery Stallions. When the other team scored, there were collective groans from all eight of the friends. Penalties had been given to both teams.

The game only lasted for four quarters, each about 30 minutes long, for a total of two hours, plus a 30 minute break. However, the game did not actually end until a little over three and a half hours, mainly due to the time outs and penalties.

After the game was over, the friends decided to have supper at a local Italian restaurant. They sat in a special V.I.P section of the restaurant thanks, in part, by the owner knowing and respecting the Malfoys. "Can't fault your father for doing what he thought was best for his family," the owner had told Draco. "He really is a fine man, but like all fine men, he has his flaws. We're just glad he saw the error of his ways before it was too late."

Draco inclined his head. "It almost was too late, Mr. Giovanni. The Dark Lord had purposely set me a task that he was sure would kill me," he said. "All because Father had angered him."

Mr. Giovanni was an older wizard with a pot belly and white tuffs of hair above his ear and bunched in his white brow and nowhere else on his head. Hermione suspected the rest of his body made up for it, judging back the thick, coarse hair on his arms and poking out of his shirt collar. But he had kind brown eyes that spoke of a youth long gone, but not forgotten.

The old proprietor shook his head. "Such a shame," he muttered. "So much innocent blood was spilled and lost because of the whims of that madman."

"He wasn't a man," Hermione stated. "He was a monster, but he's gone now."

The old man smiled at her. "Such a fine young lass," he said, bowing his head to her and kissing the back of her hand. He held her hand a moment longer and looked at Draco. "You take care of this girl, boy. You hear me? I've heard many stories of young Miss Granger and I know you've made a respectable woman out of her. Keep treating her right and she'll do you plenty of good."

"I will," Draco agreed. "Always the best, only the best, because she deserves no less."

The proprietor turned his attention to the bespectacled man. "Don't think I've forgotten you, Mr. Potter," he said. "If it weren't for you, we would still be living in terror of that creature. For that reason alone, the tab is on me tonight."

Harry's eyes widened and he began to protest, "Oh, sir, you don't…"

Mr. Giovanni raised his hand to stop the boy. "Don't argue with me, boy," he said sternly. "My restaurant, my rules. You think I'm going to make you pay when you have a beautiful woman on your arm? No. Your money's no good here, Mr. Potter. And that goes for the rest of you. Eat and drink as much as you want. It's a three course menu and more than enough wine."

Defeated, Harry gave the man a soft smile. "Thank you, sir," he said.

There was soft chatter as they ate their meals and the conversations mostly revolved around the game. "When will the Fiery Stallions be playing again, my prince?" Hermione asked as she rolled some spaghetti around her fork and ate it.

Draco shook his head. "I'll have to ask Father," he answered.

"Oh, please do," Ginny begged. "I'm going to have to renew my derby magazine subscriptions so I can keep up with them."

"You'll have to give me the name of the magazine you read," Luna said softly as she took a sip of her wine.

The ginger haired girl agreed and they finished their plates. As they waited for their desserts to come out, Blaise turned to his girlfriend. "I suppose I should do this while we're waiting," he said, and they all looked at him.

Taking her hand, he smiled at her. "You look beautiful, mi cara," he whispered. "I have never met a witch quite like you before. You understand me in a way no one else can. After the war, I didn't think I would ever smile again, but you brought life back into my life. For the first time in over three years, I'm laughing again. I'm not worried about walking on the streets in the daylight anymore because I know you are by my side. I would like to keep it that way."

Moving out of his seat, Blaise bent down to one knee and pulled out a small black velvet box. "You would make me the happiest man in the world, mi cara, if you'll agree to be my wife," he said, looking up into her eyes.

Padma had tears in her eyes as she touched her lips with her fingers. Though she had predicted to Hermione that he would indeed propose to her this day, it was still an emotional moment for the girl. Her lips widened into a smile, pulling back to show her glistening white teeth as she nodded. "Yes, yes," she whispered and threw her arms around his neck.

Laughing, he caught her around the waist and held her close. He pulled away just a bit so he could kiss her.

Hermione rested her head on Draco's shoulder as silent tears of happiness for her friends cascaded down her cheeks. She watched as the newly engaged couple broke apart and, laughing, slipped the ring on Padma's finger.

Immediately, the Ravenclaw showed off her new jewellery to her friends. "A blue diamond?" Ginny asked as she gazed at the rock. "It looks beautiful."

Padma nodded eagerly. "Blue diamonds are my favourite," she told them. "Their rarer than white diamonds and I think they look fancier."

Blaise inclined his head at the ring. "Best part is," he said, "it is a family heirloom. I actually found it amongst my mother's jewels. Asked her if I could have it."

Theodore glanced at Luna and chuckled. "Looks like we're going to have to hunt for new friends," he told her with a smile. "Everyone at this table is married."

Luna gazed up at him and then back at her plate. "They are not married yet," she said wistfully. "You still have time."

Theodore paled as the rest of the group began laughing.

(IV)(IV)

"How was the game?" Lucius asked as he cradled his glass.

Draco shrugged. "It wasn't too bad," he admitted as he sat in the chair opposite of his father. "The Fiery Stallions won and Comet ran really well."

The older wizard nodded as he stared into the flames of the fireplace. "I would expect nothing less," he said. "Comet is a fine horse and any losses the Stallions receive will be because of the other team members."

Draco studied his father for a moment. "Should you be drinking that?" he questioned.

Lucius glared at his only son. "It's my damn house and my damn liquor! I will drink when I want and however much I want and if your mother has a problem with it she can suck my dick because I don't give two flying fucks what anyone says."

The young wizard didn't respond, knowing his father was drunk and there would be no getting through to him right now. He knew his father was hurting. Two years in Azkaban only to be let out under house arrest for twenty years. Sure the older wizard can visit his other properties by going through the Floo Network or Apparating, but it wasn't the same. Lucius had become no more than a bird in a gilded cage.

"Have the crups had any pups lately? I haven't been by to check," Draco asked, attempting to change the subject.

It seemed to work as Lucius took a sip of his brandy and stared into the flames. "The one bitch did," he told his son. "The other one is still pregnant. I was thinking about seeing if Mrs. Potter wanted one."

"I know Blaise wants one," Draco said as he leaned back in his chair. "And I was thinking of giving one to Hermione."

"Has she gotten pregnant yet?" came an automatic question from the older wizard.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "We haven't had sex since the last time you asked me, which, in case you've forgotten, was this morning."

Lucius waved his son off. "You'd better get on with it, boy," he said. "Time is being wasted every second she remains childless."

Frowning, Draco pursed his lips before saying, "What would you have me do, Father? Having a child isn't easy, you know that. And it's not like we aren't trying. We shag at least two or three times a day, sometimes even more."

Lucius huffed in annoyance and took another pull of his brandy. "You've been to the Healer?" he asked.

"I have. She has, too. We're both perfectly healthy and, in fact, the Healer has suggested that maybe the reason Hermione hasn't gotten pregnant has more to do with stress than any normal ailments. And antagonizing her about getting pregnant isn't helping!" the young wizard said, emphasizing his last sentence by banging his fist against the arm of his chair.

Lucius scoffed and looked away. "This is your responsibility, Draco," the man said, his eyes watering from staring into the flames for so long. When he finally looked at Draco, the young wizard could see his blood shot eyes and the bags underneath them. Draco could also see the beginnings of a five-o'clock shadow. "You are a Malfoy and you have a duty to uphold."

"Father," Draco asked softly, "have you been sleeping at all?"

The patriarch sniffed and looked away from his son. Draco watched as the older man's left leg started twitching violently and uncontrollably, an old pain that returned to Lucius from time to time. A reminder of what happened when the Dark Lord was displeased. The young man remembered a time when Lucius would carry his walking stick around, not because he needed it, but because he thought it looked stylish. Draco was too young to remember when Lucius had first had the stick custom made to hide his wand inside of it, but the boy had always enjoyed playing with the snake head. Lucius would get onto him, of course, especially when Draco started showing his magical abilities, but the punishments were never too severe.

Now Lucius needed the stick. After the Dark Lord had been defeated, Draco had taken the parts of the stick and had them refashioned in case his father ever got out of prison. Now the snake head rested against Lucius's chair, it's hollowed out core a constant reminder of the wand that used to sit within. Maybe once Lucius finished his sentence, he would get another wand and have it fastened into the snake head.

Looking at the shell that had once been his father, Draco could see how torn he was. Was he still upset over that Chamber? Or was it something more? Lucius was really good at hiding whenever people were around, but from what Narcissa had told Draco and his wife, the patriarch was slowly starting to give up.

"He needs you, Draco," the woman had said. "He needs you to help him fight whatever demons he's facing."

But how was Draco to help his father fight his demons when he had his own to defeat?

They heard a loud _pop!_ And a woman hollered for Draco. "One moment, Father," he said as he rose from the chair and went into the hall. "Hermione?"

She rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck. Caught off guard, Draco took a step back and placing his hands on her waist. "Are you alright, love?" he asked as he tried pulling her away.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. Touching his cheek, she stood on her toes and kissed him. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Draco returned her kiss and even deepened it before she threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh, you don't know how happy you've made me," she said, looking up at him. "You brilliant, sweet, incredible man! Did you do whatever you had to do today?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "All I was doing was speaking with my father," he said.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him into the study where he and his father had been. Lucius hadn't moved from his spot, but looked up when the young couple entered. Hermione rested a hand on her husband's chest.

"Are you alright, Father?" she asked, unable to contain her grin.

He nodded and held up his nearly empty glass. "As well as can be expected, my dear," he rasped.

She giggled. "Then you won't mind if I borrow my husband for a moment, would you? Thing is, I really want to take him home so I can make passionate love to him for the next two or three hours."

Draco's eyes bulged and he glanced at his wife in disbelief. Licking his lips, he tightened his hold on her waist.

Lucius finished his drink and inclined his head to her. "Go," he told her, "and shag away."

Giggling some more, Hermione glanced up at Draco, kissing him before they both Apparated away. The moment they appeared in their bedroom, Hermione grabbed Draco by the collar and pushed him onto the bed. He wasn't fighting her, either, as he found himself actually enjoying this aggressive side of his wife.

She kissed him passionately as she crawled over him, one leg resting on either side of him. She pulled at his trousers, ripping his belt open and pushing it aside before popping the button and unzipping him. She didn't have to dig much into his trousers before finding his already hardened cock and pulling it out.

Having hiked her skirt up around her waist, she impaled herself on him. Their moans echoed as they broke their kiss. Draco fell back onto the bed, holding her hips as she rode him. It was definitely a nice change of pace for the wizard, but she rode him hard and rapidly. "Slow down," he said, his fingers digging into her waist. "You're going to make me come too soon if you keep going so fast."

"I want," she panted, bracing herself on his chest as she continued her movements, "you to come. Come for me, baby."

He blinked as sweat began to sprinkle along his brow. Growling, he met her thrusts, grabbing her hips more firmly and pushing up into her. "Like that?" he grunted through gritted teeth.

She threw her head back and gave short shouts of pleasure. "Yes! Yes!" she chanted, her hands clutching and pulling at his shirt. "God, yes! Oh, oh, oh!"

She was no longer moving as he was taking over entirely, thrusting up into her with a vengeance. With one final thrust, he forced his cock as deep into her as he could and came, filling her with jet after jet of his come. Weakened by what had just happened, Draco collapsed back onto the bed, releasing his hold on her and she slumped over, lying on top of him.

For such a short, quick fuck, they were both sweaty, but neither of them really cared. He lifted a lifeless hand and let it fall onto her back as his eyes drooped. After a while, he whispered, "What was all of that for?"

Raising her head slightly, the witch glanced up at her husband curiously. "Do I need a reason?" she asked.

He laughed. "No, no, you don't," he replied, "but I know you, love. You rarely do things without a reason. Especially with the way you spoke to my father." He raised an eyebrow at that last sentence."

With her arms on his chest, she propped herself up so she could look at him properly. Her face contorted in disgust. "Your father is a drunk, Draco," she said. "I know he's upset over Ginny, but that happened years ago and he apologized. She's over it."

He shook his head. "That's not it though, is it?" he responded. "Yeah, he's upset over Potter, but he's more upset over what could have happened to you, or worse, to me."

Her frown deepened. "The basilisk wasn't attacking Purebloods," she pointed out.

"No, but the effect would have been the same if a Pureblood would have crossed paths with it," he told her. "He thought he was being clever, getting rid of a connection to the Dark Lord and embarrassing an enemy of his all in one go. Think someone would have questioned her on where she got the book from? Or even more important, do you think the book even knew who had kept it for so many years? Or that the Aurors would have checked?" He shook his head. "Father thought he was killing two birds with one stone, love."

"Still doesn't mean he should waste himself away on booze," she argued. "There are other ways he can handle it."

"Like?"

She rolled off of him. "I don't know. Buy her a pony. Take Ginny horseback riding or buy her a new broomstick. Or even better, take some time and actually get to know her," she suggested. "Stop being so rude to her family."

He nodded. "Don't know how well getting along with her family would go. The feud goes a lot further back than my father and Arthur Weasley."

"I don't care what he does, honestly," she said with a huff. "My parents will be coming here soon. I don't want them meeting a drunken old man."

He inclined his head. "We'll work on that," he promised. "Father will be sober when they come. Now," he purred as he rolled onto his side and gave her a devilish smirk. "What was the reason behind your sudden spontaneity? And what can I do to earn a repeat performance?"

Both of her eyebrows rose in momentary surprise and then she gave him a smirk of her own. She slipped off the bed and lifted her chin up slightly. "Well, you could start by telling me when my parents are coming," she suggested and he laughed.

(V)(V)

It had taken much prying on Draco's part over the next couple days to convince Hermione to teach him the telephone spell. Once she did, though, he secretly began trying to figure out how to get the calls from her parents sent to his wand instead of hers. She still didn't know what day they were coming and he wanted to keep it that way.

He wasn't trying to be cruel. Draco genuinely loved his wife and wanted to see her happy. However, the lure of a birthday surprise was much too tempting for the Slytherin. He knew his "number". Taking a trip to the airport helped him learn how to get in contact with Wendell Wilkins and, calling the number given to him, Draco gave Monica Wilkins, Wendell's wife and, coincidentally, Hermione's mother, the "new phone number" with instructions to call as soon as they landed, but didn't tell Hermione about it.

The next couple weeks saw Hermione consistently busy and Draco liked that. It took her mind off of her parents and her curiosity of when they would show. Laws preventing house elf abuse began to be announced in the _Daily Prophet_ and _Quibbler_ and more than once the Malfoy family, Hermione and Draco in particular, made the front page. Lucius was beginning to sober up.

Hermione still hadn't managed to get pregnant, but the couple did not let that small fact get in their way. They knew what they had to do and they did it often. Draco had suggested they prepare a room on the chance she did become pregnant, but Hermione refused, claiming it could jinx their chances. "I won't build my hopes up just so they could be dashed," she told him.

Narcissa had finally started renovating the old drawing room, tearing down the walls and removing the furniture and musical instruments to be retuned and refurnished. She had chosen to have the walls painted white with small hand painted flowers spread throughout. When the furniture was returned, they were no longer dark and emerald green. Instead, Narcissa had taken a page out of Hermine's book and had chosen warm tones, mostly various shades of beige and brown. The piano was still black, but it was polished and perfectly tuned, as Lucius demonstrated one night while running his fingers along the keys. He didn't actually play anything, though, but no one was really disappointed.

One morning, after Hermione had gone off to work, Draco found himself in his old room in Malfoy Manor. He walked the room slowly, stopping when he came upon his old school trunk. Kneeling down, he opened the trunk, batting away some dust that had flown up into the air. He didn't remember when he had last cleaned the trunk out, but it didn't matter much. "Maisey," he called and waited for the little elf to pop into the room.

"Yes, sir?" she squeaked as she appeared in the room.

He looked up at her. "I need you to redistribute a few old textbooks of mine," he told her. "Most of them can go into the library here at the Manor, but I have a couple that I would like to toss."

She nodded. "Yes, sir, Master Draco, sir," she said.

He gave her a soft smile and patted the floor next to him. Taking the hint, the little elf sat by him, waiting for the books. His old Standard Books of Spells, as well as his Potions book were all sent to the library. He also decided to keep all of the old textbooks Snape had taught from, running a hand over the cover of his old Potions book as memories of his time in Snape's Potions class struck him. He closed his eyes and swore he could still smell the staleness in the air from that classroom. Potions had always been his favourite class, not just because he loved the subject, but also because he enjoyed the lessons Snape had taught. Even Slughorn hadn't been that bad, though he did play favourites.

He also decided to keep his transfiguration books, _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, his Herbology book, his Runes books, and _the Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts._ He very happily tossed his _Monster Book of Monsters_ and _Dark Arts Defence: Basics for Beginners_. He debated over his history book, but in the end, decided to keep it. Maybe he could give his child a head start early enough for the class.

He also tossed many of his essays and notes as well as empty inkwells, broken quills, and a number of other things he didn't understand the point of keeping. At the bottom of his trunk, something caught his eye and he dug further down to pull it out. He squinted at the old, faded photograph, wiping the dust and wood shavings off of it. He blinked. "How…?" He tilted his head curiously at the photo.

He knew he had a photograph of himself and Hermione dancing the night of the Yule Ball. For years he had kept it safely hidden and would take it out to look at and remanence on what he had thought could have been. Now that the "could have" had become "will one day be", he had allowed Hermione to take the photo and even frame it, setting it on the mantle in their small, well what he considered small, home. But this? This was a photo of them in the library at school. Hermione was engrossed in her schoolbook while Draco sat a couple of tables away from her.

He did remember the scene. After that fateful night of the Ball, he would often find himself staring at her, silently wishing she was his, just as he was doing in the photograph. The Draco in the photo stood up and moved to approach the girl, but stopped short. The wizard could see the pain cross the boy's face, frowning at his own indecision, before turning back to the table he had been at before.

Holding the photo in one hand, Draco searched his trunk, looking for any evidence of the one who had given it to him. What he found was an old, yellow envelope. Setting the photo on his lap, he carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a bit of parchment with writing on it.

"Dear Malfoy,

Here's that photograph you wanted. I was curious why you were willing to pay so much for something that would probably have gotten thrown into the rubbish bin, but then I saw something I never thought I would. I took another photo, showing you what it was I saw. I doubt you care much for the advice of a third year, but I'll give it anyway. Hermione Granger is one of a kind. Whatever man decides to marry her one day, will be a lucky bloke. Personally, I think it'll end up being Harry or Ron, but that doesn't mean it can't be you. You don't need me to tell you that she's worth it. Try not to let her blood get in the way of what could potentially be your "happy ever after". If you do end up with her, hold onto her for as long as you can. Girls like her only come once in a lifetime, if they come at all."

It was signed "CC". While Draco had never really taken the time to get to know the boy, he had seen the boy's uncanny naivety. Creevey had been loyal to a fault, idolizing Potter and believing in him when most others had turned away. He read the letter again and stared at the photo. Could it be that Creevey had believed in Draco as well?

Gently slipping the letter and photo back into the envelope, Draco resealed it and tucked it into his robes, thinking Hermione might like to see them. At that moment, his wand went off. Shaking the daze out of his head, Draco withdrew his wand and drew a mobile in the air. Taking the mobile, he answered it, "Hello?" He heard a crack in his own voice and straightened his throat. Stronger, he said, "Hello."

"Yes, is this Draco Malfoy?" came the answer.

"It is. Wendell Wilkins?" Draco asked, though he had already recognized the voice.

"Yes, my wife and I have just landed at the airport."

The wizard nodded. "Right. Wait for me at the entrance to your gate. I'm on my way," he instructed before he hung up the "phone." He glanced at Maisey. "Tidy up the rest of this mess, but don't toss anything away until I can go through it, minus those books I gave you to toss, of course."

"Yes, sir," she said as she stood up and began magicking the items back into the trunk.

Draco smiled as he straightened his clothes. "Time for me to go meet the parents."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took so long for this chapter, guys. Been crazy lately. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, though! Please don't forget to review. I do love reading what you guys think!

**Guest:** Done, though I would really like to know your name ;) If you are the same person who reviewed chapter 15. Don't worry, I will correct my mistake. (I don't always think straight when I write. Lol)

**AnnaCelestine:** Ever had a boyfriend you would get so irritated with that you just wanna strangle them, but didn't? If you notice, there are many times when Hermione tries to hit Draco, but he stops her. He may think he wants to hit her, or strangle her, or drown her, or whatever, but I don't think he would actually do it. It's just his way of dealing with his anger without lashing out at her. (So of like I mentioned when I asked about boyfriends.) As for Hermione acting like a Malfoy, she will. She's still getting used to the whole thing. Remember, she ~just~ married him at the end of June, merely a few weeks after he proposed. And she's still struggling with her parents being gone, friends being dead, ex boyfriend cheating on her, not being able to get pregnant, etc. There's a lot on her plate. And the idea that Draco actually loves her blows her mind, especially given their history. I don't think Ginny really cares what Ron thinks at this point. As for the rest of her family, some of them may come around, some may not. We'll have to see. But Lucius's apology was definitely real.

**shaymars:** I'm glad you like the tattoos! :) I was actually debating on having them do that, but I'm glad I did! I think it'll really help Draco to concur his demons, you know? Glad you like Theona, too! It's going to be so much fun writing them as a couple and working with a character like Theo really gives me the chance to stretch my creative reflexes a bit, you know? I was going to have them go on the vacation, but unfortunately, I just didn't see them doing that just yet. I really wanted to get them to the derby, but! Rest assured, there will be more romance between the couple.

**Honoria Granger:** Thank you for pointing that out. It will be corrected.

**SereniteRose:** And thank you, too! You're always such a lovely reviewer!

**ChenangoJones:** The tiara will be corrected (Thank you for bringing that too my attention, I had meant to say "each". Don't know what happened there.) I didn't see anything wrong with how I described Draco's reaction to things. If it offended you, I apologize, but it kinda is my story. As for the duvet, I haven't forgotten about it. It will come into play, I promise.

**Chester99:** Yeah. I didn't mention Hermione's tattoo on purpose because I wanted to talk about it in this chapter. *Giggles* Because I'm a devious writer like that. ;)

Thank you all again for your reviews! Hope to hear more of what you have to say! :)

On another note: R.I.P David Bowie. You will always be the one and only Goblin King.


	31. Chapter 31

"Please keep her distracted for as long as you can," Draco requested of his parents. "I really want her to be surprised."

Narcissa gave her son a warm smile. "Such a romantic young man," she gushed as she pressed her palm against his cheek. "You don't know how proud I am of you. Everything you've done for our family and this woman you love so much."

"Everything except manage to get her pregnant," Lucius pointed out as he walked over to his armchair by the fire and sat in it, placing his cane next to him.

"All good things come with time," the witch said, giving her husband a meaningful look. "It will happen, darling." Looking back at her son, she pushed a few strands of hair out of his face and lightly pinched his cheek as she added, "It'll be alright. You'll see."

Draco wrinkled his nose a bit, but still smiled as he bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek. "I told Hermione to come here once she got off of work, so she should be here soon," he explained.

"You'll be home for supper?" his mother asked.

He shrugged. "I'll try, but you know how slow these Muggle vehicles go and I can't use magic around them. I don't want to scare them. The sooner their memories are restored, the better."

"Do be careful," Narcissa said.

He nodded, gave her one last kiss on the cheek and bid his parents good-bye before leaving the Manor. He Apparated as close to the airport as he dared and quickly "called" the limo service he had ordered a couple of weeks prior.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. The limousine is at the airport off the northside. We have the driver on standby outside with a sign waiting for you," the operator told him.

Draco replied, "Very well. The couple and I shall be there shortly."

He walked into the Bristol Airport and made his way to the gate he was to meet the couple. It had been years since he had seen the Grangers, and he vaguely remembered what they had looked like. However, Hermione had shown him pictures of her parents and he knew her mother looked much like her. So, spotting the couple was easy enough.

He straightened his tie and approached them. "Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins?" he asked and they turned to look at him.

"Yes?" Mr. Wilkins replied.

Draco held his hand out to the older man. "I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm sorry to arrive so late. Traffic is brutal this time of day," he said as the man took his hand.

"Oh, that's quite alright, young man," the man said. "I'm Wendell and this is my wife Monica."

The Pureblood smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir, ma'am," he stated as he took Monica's hand gently and, bowing slightly, kissed the back of it.

"Oh! What a gentleman!" Monica gasped with a little giggle as she pressed her free hand to her chest. "And so handsome, too. I do hope you don't mind my saying, Mr. Malfoy, but you have the most amazing hair I've ever seen. Why, it's almost white! And your eyes! Wendell, have you ever seen such beautiful eyes?"

Draco's cheeks blushed and his smile brightened. "Thank you, ma'am," he said. "I'm very flattered."

Wendell straightened his throat. "Well, I'm sure a young bloke such as yourself has a girl," he surmised as Draco took the bag Monica was dragging with one hand and threw her other bag over his shoulder.

"Oh, yes, sir," the blond answered as he led them out of the airport to the limo. "In fact, we recently got married a little over two months ago."

"So young! You can't be more than eighteen," Monica guessed.

Draco chuckled, "You really do flatter me, ma'am. I celebrated my twentieth birthday the beginning of June."

The limousine driver took the bags from the couple and Draco and helped them into the backseat before setting their bags in the trunk. Once everyone was settled, the driver rolled down the little window that separated him from the trio. "I was told you had an address for me, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked.

Draco nodded. "Oh, yes!" he said. "We're going to Malfoy Manor located right outside of Bath."

"I've heard of the estate," the driver commented. "I've never been, however I've heard it's beautiful, especially this time of year."

Draco inclined his head. "I'll give you a large tip if you get us there quickly and safely," he promised the driver. He looked at Monica and Wendell. "I should probably warn you. The 19th is Hermione's birthday. She'll be 21 and my parents are planning a huge celebration. You're both invited, of course, as you'll be staying in the Manor."

"And Hermione is…?" Wendell pressed.

"The girl you spoke to the first time you called," the blond explained. "She's also my wife."

"Oh, how lovely!" Monica said, clapping her hands together. "And what an interesting name 'Hermione'. I remember reading about the name once in a Shakespearean play. Do you remember it, Wendell? I've always wanted a daughter named Hermione. And 'Draco'! What a brave, strong name."

The Pureblood gave a soft smile. Oh, yes, these were Hermione's parents alright. "I was named after the constellation," he told them. "My parents had wanted to give me a fierce, strong name. And 'Draco' is very noble as well, what with being Latin for 'dragon'."

Monica nodded. "It is a wonderful name. Do you mind if I call you 'Draco'?"

"Not at all, ma'am," he said. "In fact, I insist. When we get to the Manor, you'll be introduced to my parents and calling my father and I both 'Mr. Malfoy' can get a bit confusing."

The woman giggled, but agreed. It was Wendell who asked, "Is your family of noble origin?"

Draco frowned thoughtfully at the question for a moment. "I suppose you could say that," he replied. "In fact, I do believe there is at least one ancestor who had been knighted and my family have always been quite wealthy. The estate has been with us for thousands of years, passed down through the first born son."

Monica looked at him curiously. "What if the first born is a girl, though?" she asked. "Or what if you have no son at all?"

The wizard was a bit caught off guard by the question and blinked as his mind played around with the horrific scenarios. Merlin, he prayed Hermione would give birth to a son first. "If our first born happens to be a female, but we end up having a son after, the estate will still go to our son," he explained carefully. "That's how it's always been done. However, our daughter would still be well provided for and given her fair share of the money."

The two Muggles stared at him for a long moment and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "And if you don't have a son at all?" Wendell asked.

Draco sighed. "Then I suppose we'll do what my mother's family did. My grandmother gave birth to three daughters before she and my grandfather gave it up as a bad joke," he told them. "Their estate was broken three ways with my Aunt Bellatrix receiving the bulk of the inheritance due to being the eldest."

"What an archaic way of doing things!" Monica observed.

The wizard shrugged as he glanced out of the window. "My family has more than enough money. Besides, my aunt and her husband were criminals. After she died and he became incarcerated, it was discovered that I was named their heir and have received everything," he told them.

Monica's eyes widened. "Criminals?" she breathed and Wendell stared at the boy.

Draco nodded as he stared down at his hands. "I am not proud of what they've done," he told them. "But they were still my family. It is a shame what they had become."

"It is," Monica agreed, looking at the blond wizard sympathetically. "May I ask what…?"

"Murder," he said, answering her question before she had the chance to finish. "My aunt went on a sort of… killing spree. She had become obsessed with this madman who was after some fancy notion of immortality." He looked back up at the window and focused his attention on the passing foliage. "She murdered my cousin, her niece, and her husband and would've killed the son, too, if he had been present." He grew quiet as thoughts of Teddy flashed through his mind. He had never met the boy, but Hermione often spoke highly of the child.

Monica held a hand over her mouth in horror. "Oh my God," she whispered, glancing at her husband and then back at the boy. "How awful! I am so, so sorry for your loss."

Draco closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Truthfully, I never knew them personally," he admitted more to himself than to the Muggles. "Nymphadora was older than me and my Aunt Andromeda and her family had been shunned by the rest of the family. No one really cared for her husband, see? So, when Nymphadora married someone my Aunt Bellatrix thought was even worse…"

The Muggle woman shook her head. "What a wicked person!" she said. "The rest of your family isn't like that, I hope?"

Draco glanced at her and gave her a soft smile. "That's why we set up this little contest," he explained. "It's been years since we've had Mug… those like yourself on our estate. We at Malfoy Estates and Corporation wish to show the world that we're much more evolved that those petty prejudices."

"And what sort of people are we, Mr. Malfoy?" Wendell asked shrewdly. There was a glare in his eyes that reminded Draco of Hermione and he felt his heart clench.

The wizard took a deep breath. "I'm not sure you would understand, Mr. Wilkins," he answered. "My father should be able to explain it all better once we get to the estate."

"Why can't you?" Wendell pressed.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the man for a moment. He raised an eyebrow. "Alright," he said as he straightened up and placed both feet firmly on the floor board. "You really want to know?"

Monica touched Wendell's arm. "Oh don't press him, love. There's no telling…"

Draco took out his wand and showed it to them. He flicked it at the window to the driver, silently casting the privacy charm and turned back to the couple. "I'm a wizard," he said simply and bluntly. Sitting back, he watched them and waited for their reactions.

They both stared at him. Monica's eyes widened even more as her mouth dropped open. "You're a what?" she asked the blond man.

"A wizard," he repeated. "More to the point, I am what we call a 'Pureblood', meaning that the wizarding blood in my veins can be traced back for generations," he explained. "For thousands of years, it was believed that being Pureblood was somehow better than being anything less. Muggles, such as yourselves, were sneered at and considered inferior."

"That explains the unusual names," Monica commented, though there was still a look of disbelief on her face. "Nymphadora? Bellatrix? And Wendell read on the internet that your father's name is Lucius, am I correct?" At Draco's nod, she continued, "Honestly, I thought the names sounded rather fantastical, as though you were all from some sort of Shakespearean play."

"It still sound fantastical, Monica," Wendell pointed out, still staring at Draco. "In fact, it sounds so fantastical, one could hardly believe it."

Draco didn't look away or blink, but inclined his head. "I suppose it would," he agreed. "If it were not real," he added as he waved his wand in the air and conjured a mobile. He dialled a number on it and held it up to his ear. "Hello, Father. Yes, I wanted to inform you that I have the Wilkins and am on my way home… It shouldn't take long… Father, I should probably warn you that they know… Well, I sort of told them that we were wizards… No, just the Wilkins. The driver can't hear us… Yes, sir… Like I said, we'll be there shortly." The moment he hung up the phone, it disappeared, causing Monica to jump.

"Where did it go?" she asked, glancing around as if she could find it.

Draco gave a half of a smirk. "It was just a spell," he told her. "One that my wife taught our family and myself so we could communicate with one another. It's actually pretty handy."

Wendell continued to stare at the wizard. "You honestly expect us to believe all of this rubbish?" he asked.

The boy shrugged. "You don't have to if you don't want to," he muttered, then his eyes flashed. "But it is all true. I'm a wizard. In fact, my entire family are all wizards and witches, including my wife. Well, with the exception of my in-laws."

Monica tilted her head curiously. "Your in-laws? They aren't wizards?" she asked.

Draco shook his head. "They're what we call 'Muggles' or non-magic folk. My wife is a Muggle born, as she is the first in her family to show any signs of magic," he said.

"Another way for your family to show that you aren't like your aunt?" Wendell suggested.

Draco frowned. "I married her because I love her," he said, a bit annoyed. "She's a wonderful person, Hermione Granger."

"Hermione Granger?" Monica asked curiously. "That name does sound a bit familiar, though that could be because we've been going back and forth between you and your wife. Tell me, Draco, what is she like?"

The wizard sighed and did not bother to hide his smile. "She's smart, witty, beautiful, and very brave," he told her. "We used to attend school together and she was always brilliant. The brightest witch of our age, she was at the top of our class, though I came in at a close second."

Monica smiled softly. "You really are fond of her, aren't you?" She reached out to take his hand.

He stared at her red painted nails for a moment before allowing her to hold one of his hands with her small ones. He was amazed by how soft and warm her hands were, but he didn't say anything. He would never admit it aloud, but Draco came to the conclusion that it was becoming more and more difficult to separate Muggles from Wizarding kind. And she looked so much like Hermione that he could actually feel his heart ache and he suddenly missed the witch, though he knew he would see her soon enough.

The Muggle patted the top of his hand. "You are such a polite gentleman, Draco," she told him. "Your Hermione is so lucky to have you."

He shook his head. "No, she's not," he said as memories of seeing the witch so dear to his heart lying on the ground in pain came to his mind. "I'm the lucky one."

(II)(II)

As the Muggles stepped out of the limo Monica stared up at the Manor, her mouth hanging open in awe. "Oh, my God," she gasped. Her head whipped around and she spotted Draco talking to the limo driver and handing the man a handful of pounds.

"This should cover a tip," Draco said. "Thank you again for driving us."

The man looked down at the neat stack of notes in his hand, his eyes widening. "Y-yes, of course," he said as he shook hands with the wizard.

Draco smiled and patted the man's arm. "Have a safe trip back, mate," he stated.

The man nodded and bid the trio adieu before he got back into his car and left. Draco watched as the car left and raised his wand to reset the wards. Once that was done, he turned his attention back to the couple. Grabbing Monica's bags, he hefted the lighter one over his shoulder and set the larger one on its wheels. "This would have been really nice when I was going to school," he commented, giving the Muggle woman a smirk.

"You actually live here?" she asked as she glanced back at the Manor.

Draco followed her gaze and gave a little shrug. "I've lived here my entire life," he told her. "However, after Hermione and I married, we found it prudent to move into our own home where we could build our lives together." He glanced at Wendell to check how the Muggle was fairing, but he seemed to be doing well, so Draco started up the steps to the large doors. "My parents live here, though," he added as he waved his wand at the doors to open them. "And Hermione and I will be staying here as well during the length of your stay."

"This is where you'll be celebrating her birthday?" Wendell asked as they stepped into the foyer.

Draco nodded. "There's a ballroom near the centre of the Manor that you'll see during the tour," he explained. "My mother has already sent out invitations to many people, though we try to keep from inviting Muggles."

"Why is that?" Wendell questioned, his eyes narrowing. "And why are we so special?"

Draco waved a hand in the air. "You won the contest and…"

"Oh, cut the shite, Malfoy," the older man hissed. "You know as well as I do there was no contest. You even admitted that your own aunt murdered her niece for consorting with my kind. We're not stupid. You lead us here with all these tales of a grand stay at one of the best estates in all of England, yet your website was non-existent until I mentioned something to your wife. Then, in the limousine, you tell us you're a wizard and start waving your little stick around."

The wizard's eyes narrowed as he glared at the Muggle. "You think this is a trap," he guessed.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Why have we been invited to a Manor that houses wizards when we didn't even know your kind existed before we got into that limo?"

Draco frowned. "As I said, I'm really not the best person to explain things," he said. Then, he shouted, "Maisey!"

Monica jumped as the loud _crack_ signalled the small elf's appearance. The Muggles stared at the creature with looks of horror and shock. "Yes, Master Draco, sir?" her small voice asked as she gave a small bow.

"Would you please take Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins bags to their rooms and check on supper for us? Or did my parents already eat?"

"No, sir, they have not. Master Lucius has been in conversation with Mrs. Hermione about her upcoming birthday celebration. He said he wanted to wait for to return home, sir, before supper was served," she told him.

Draco nodded. "Then, if you would, please, make sure supper will be ready for us soon? And don't forget to take care of that luggage."

"Yes, sir," she said, giving him another bow before turning to the Muggles and taking their bags. Another _crack_ and she was gone.

"What was that?" Monica asked as Wendell commented, "Good God! Was that a Gremlin?"

"A what?" Draco asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. He opened his mouth and was about to explain what Maisey was when his body collided with Hermione running straight at him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him repeatedly. Breaking their kiss, she hugged him and whispered in his ear, "I've missed you so much. I tried calling, but your parents kept insisted you'd be home soon."

He looked down at her, worry etched on his face. "What happened? What's wrong?" he asked.

She gave him a coy smile and shook her head. "Nothing," she answered. "I just missed you is all."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Perhaps I should go on daily trips more often if I earn those type of greetings," he teased.

She patted his shoulder lightly and turned. Her smile faltered as she saw the two Muggles standing there with mixtures of shock and fear on their faces. She quickly shook her head. "Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins, what a surprise to see you," the Muggle born said as she stepped out of her husband's embrace and approached them.

"What was that thing?" Wendell repeated.

"What thing?" she asked, glancing at Draco before turning back to her father.

"That… that Gremlin looking thing!" he exclaimed. "It took our bags and…"

Hermione glared at Draco. "You had one of the house elves come and fetch their bags while they were standing here watching? Are you mad?" she hissed. "They're Muggles!"

Draco shrugged. "I wasn't thinking."

"That much is obvious," she spat in annoyance. "You can't just have house elves appearing in front of them without warning." She turned to the couple and offered them a sympathetic smile. "It's alright," she assured them. "That wasn't a Gremlin." She glared at Draco. "Who did you call?"

"Maisey, of course," he replied with a frown. "Who do you think I would call?"

Hermione gave an annoyed sigh as she shook her head. "Maisey is what's called a house elf," she explained to the couple. "No one knows the true origins of house elves, but what is known is that they used to be highly hunted by big predators. Somewhere along the way, wizards had agreed to protect them in exchange for any help they could give us, so they mostly became household workers, since most wizards are often far too busy for common household chores. And house elves are more than happy to help."

A small smile played on Draco's lips as he listened to his wife explain the roles of house elves. He knew she was researching the topic. Like her, though, he had been reading more about elves. "However, if the elves are treated poorly, they are less likely to want to help out," he added. "Which is why Hermione here has been fighting for elvish rights for years now."

"I don't fight for them for the Wizarding World's benefit," she argued, giving her husband an aggrieved look. "I do it for the elves. They deserve to be treating kindly and too many wizards have forgotten that. They…" she trailed off as she realized just what they were talking about and to whom.

She turned to the Wilkins and gave a nervous laugh. "But I'm sure neither of you care much about it," she said. "You're not even supposed to know about elves." She elbowed her husband in the gut and Draco doubled over, his arm over his stomach.

"Witch!" he hissed. Through clenched teeth, he growled, "That's the last time you do that. I've asked you not to hit me."

Hermione shrugged and gave the couple a smile. "He's ever the joker," she told them. "If you would, please, I know Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy are both anxious to meet you and it would be rude to keep them waiting any longer. That being said, I am sure you would like to take a few moments to clean up. Supper is often a formal affair here at Malfoy Manor, after all. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy won't mind if you freshen up a bit."

"So, those things… those house elves… they won't attack us, will they?" Wendell asked as he placed a hand on the small of his wife's back.

The Muggle born witch shook her head. "Oh, heavens, no," she said. "They wouldn't do anything to displeasure those who care for them. Overall, house elves are rather peaceful creatures who would rather serve those who are stronger than they are."

"They do resemble goblins," Draco commented. "Now, those buggers…"

"Draco!" the witch hissed, glaring at him. "Shut up! Its bad enough they know of house elves now. Too much information too soon will only terrify them." She glanced at the couple and sighed. "Come along."

Wendell and Monica shared a look and then followed the witch.

"As I'm sure Draco has already told you," the witch said conversationally as she led them down a hallway, "Malfoy Manor has been in the family for generations. It was first owned by Armand Malfoy who had been given the land for services rendered by King William I. As time went on, the family slowly expanded their lands through buying the properties of their neighbours." She glanced at a tapestry of one of William the Conqueror's battles and gave a small smile. "Everything you see here has a history and a story behind it. The Malfoys are astute collectors and tend to display some of their most prized possessions."

"You're making us sound like peacocks," Draco groused as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Hermione giggled. "Ironically enough, they even breed rare albino peacocks," she told the Muggle couple and Monica smiled.

"Why would you breed peacocks?" Wendell asked as Hermione opened a door and led them into a brightly lit room.

The room was decorated with soft pink roses over white and light blue and pine wood furniture. "Now, there's a loo to the right," she told them. "We'll give you a few minutes to freshen up. When you're done," she said as she picked up a small device that looked like some sort of radio. "Just call me here on the walkie and we'll come and get you."

Draco leaned in to get a proper look at the globe. "Does that work for Muggles?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. She told him softly. "It's what we called 'Muggle magic'. At least that's how we used to joke about it when I was little. It's a simply device that doesn't require too much to use. Your mother and I were testing them earlier because I know electronics don't always work well around magic." She gave a smile to the two Muggles. "We'll return when you've summoned us."

Draco held the door open for the witch and she slipped out. Once he closed the door behind himself, Draco felt and heard Hermione whip around and hug him. "Wha…?"

"Thank you!" she whispered as he turned in his spot so he could hug her back.

He smirked as his hands moved around her small body to return her hug. "You are very welcomed, love. I hope you're not too cross with me for not telling you," he said. "Honestly, I really wanted it to be a surprise."

"My parents are coming to my birthday," she stated as she looked up at him and giggled. "Draco, don't you know what this means? Our family is finally whole! All we need is to restore their memories and…"

"Yes, I've been meaning to ask about that," he said, frowning. "How do you intend to do this? Father's forbidden a wand and you said the spell you had found required one."

She shook her head and waved the problem away. "I'm sure you or your mum could lend him yours," she commented. "Honestly, there's enough magic going on in this manor it would be hard to tell who cast the spells, wouldn't it?" She pushed away from him so she could pirouette. "My parents! Oh, Draco, this is the greatest gift I have ever received!" She stopped suddenly and her eyes widened. "That's right! I forgot! There is something I wanted to tell you and what better time to do it than now? Draco, you're going…"

The door to the bedroom opened at that moment and Wendell peeked down the hall with the walkie in his hand. He stared at the couple. "I thought the two of you left?" he commented and shook his head. "Never mind, then. Monica and I are ready."

Hermione clapped her hands and giggled, her gaze going lovingly to Draco. The blond wizard's eyes widened as he stared at the door. "Um, Hermione," he whispered. "Uh…"

Wendell and Hermione both turned to see what Draco was staring at. Hermione's eyes brightened while Wendell kept looking from his wife to the young witch. "By God, the resemblance is uncanny!" he breathed. "You could be sisters."

"More like mother and daughter," Draco commented without thinking. "I…" He snapped out of his shock. "You look beautiful Mrs. Wilkins."

Monica blushed beautifully as she dipped her head. "Thank you," she said. "And, please, call me Monica."

The wizard inclined his head and glanced at Hermione. "Where are my parents?"

The bushy haired witch gave a nervous smile. "In the drawing room, my prince."

While this room had held some of the foulest memories for the Muggle born, the renovation efforts Narcissa had been partaking in had really helped her to see the room as something other than the room where she was tortured. As they walked in, Lucius rose from his seat by the fire and Narcissa stepped closer to her husband, placing a hand on the top of the armchair.

Monica froze, her eyes widening. "Oh my God," she whispered, touching a hand to her mouth as she openly stared at Lucius.

The wizard frowned slightly and tilted his head.

Hermione glanced curiously at her mother, but indicated the patriarch and his wife with a wave of her hand. "This is Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy, I would like to introduce to you Mr. Wendell Wilkins and his wife, Monica," she said.

Leaning heavily on his walking stick, Lucius approached the couple and held out a hand to Wendell. "It is a pleasure to meet you both," he greeted as he shook the Muggle's hand and turned to woman. Taking her hand gently into his, he gave her a gentleman's bow and brushed the top of her hand briefly with his lips.

Monica blushed furiously. "Oh, God," she whispered and glanced at her husband. "I feel as if I've just been kissed by Merlin himself!"

Startled, Lucius straightened up and gazed at the woman in confusion as his wife moved closer to them to shake hands with the Muggles. "You know of Merlin?" he asked, curiously.

Narcissa touched her husband's shoulder. "Of course they do, darling," she said. "Didn't we just have this discussion? Merlin is in Muggle fairytale books about King Arthur, after all." She shook her head and glanced at Monica. "My husband is quite forgetful at times."

The Muggle woman gave a rather weak smile as she continued to stare at the wizard. "I never thought I would ever see someone quite so…" She glanced at Hermione. "Is there Cupid blood in the family line somewhere?"

The Muggle born witch laughed. "Not at all," she said. "But they are a rather nice mixture of Italian, French, and English."

"And Greek God," Monica added, as she turned her attention back to Lucius. "I was impressed with Draco's hair, but now I see right where he gets it from. And those eyes! You don't see eyes like that on mere mortals such as ourselves."

"Hermione," Narcissa warned, "she's going to inflate his ego if she keeps talking like that."

And it was true as Lucius's lips curled up into a rather charming smile. "I am humbly flattered, madam," he said, giving an actual bow to the Muggle. "We've had generations of careful breeding with the attempt to perfect our bloodlines."

"'Generations of careful breeding'?" Wendell repeated a bit sourly. His frown definitely showed that he did not care much for his wife's ogling. "You make it sound like you're a bunch of show dogs who champion at the Westminster."

"Wendell!" Monica reprimanded as she elbowed him in a way that echoed Hermione's previous movement perfectly. Draco caught the movement and rubbed his stomach at the remembered pain. "Don't be so rude! There's nothing wrong with having a good breeding history." The Muggle woman turned back to Lucius. "I've no doubt you're very proud of your heritage, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius inclined his head. "That I am," he confirmed. "As I should be, I believe."

At that moment, a house elf Hermione didn't recognize appeared in the room, startling Monica, and said, "Master, supper is ready."

Lucius nodded. "Thank you, Bulap," he said and the elf disappeared. Lucius straightened and took his wife's hand, tucking it into his elbow. "Shall we proceed to the dining room?"

(II)(II)

As always, supper at Malfoy Manor left Hermione feeling full and satisfied. Conversation had been very difficult, of course, as they learned that Draco had let slip they were wizards. The small group ended up retiring back to the drawing room where Lucius poured glasses of brandy for himself, Draco, and Wendell.

"So much history here," Monica breathed as she watched the portrait above the mantel move. "Do all the paintings move? Or is it just choice ones?"

Hermione joined the Muggle woman and smiled up at the portrait. It still managed to warm her heart to see how loving Lucius and Narcissa stood behind their young son. "They all do," she explained. "The photos move as well."

"Do they really?" the woman asked, placing a hand on her chest in astonishment.

Hermione nodded. "I'd always found magic fascinating," she told the Muggle.

"Of that I don't doubt," Monica commented. "I believe Draco told us earlier that your parents were like Wendell and me. Is that true?"

Her heart skipped a beat and Hermione silently nodded. "They are very much like you," she murmured cryptically.

Lucius glanced up at the Muggle born and downed the rest of his drink, which wasn't much to begin with. He crossed the room slowly, leaning on his walking stick like always. "Hermione, my dear," he said as he approached the two women, causing the others in the room to look at him.

The young witch looked up at him and could see the determination in his eyes. Meeting him by the bookshelves so he didn't have to walk too far, she smiled up at him. "Yes?" she asked politely as her heart started beating faster.

He frowned and leaned against a chair and took a deep breath. "If you wish me to perform the counter spell tonight, I will need to borrow your wand," he told her, his voice quiet.

Her eyes widened. "Why not use Draco's or…?"

"Did you use Draco's wand to cast the curse?" he asked, interrupting her.

She frowned, but shook her head and he continued, "I need the wand that had created the spell in order to perform its counter. You don't have to worry, my pet. I'll give it back when I am done."

It took her a long moment of observing the wizard before she finally took out her wand to hand to him. She hesitated at the last moment, but a meaningful look from him had her hand it over. They were family now. She could trust him. At least, that's what she hoped.

Lucius glanced down at the wand in his hand, his eyes becoming hooded at the feel of the wood between his fingers. "What is it made of?" he asked almost reverently.

"Vine," she replied. "With dragon heartstring."

He inclined his head and whispered to her, "Get your parents close together so I don't have to execute the spell twice."

Hermione swore her heart was beating so hard that everyone in the room could hear it, but if they could, no one said anything. She turned and looked at the bookshelf, her eyes scanning the books. Finally seeing a book on wizards that she thought was interesting, she called, "Mr. and Mrs, Wilkins? Will you come here a moment? I think you'll find this book quite interesting."

As the Muggle born walked towards the centre of the room, the two Muggles joined her. She opened the book and began talking to them about the Wizard sport of Quidditch as Draco and his mother joined Lucius by the bookshelf. Lucius was still holding the wand gently, caressing the wood like a long lost lover.

"You're going to have to give that back, you know," Draco pointed out as he watched his father.

"I know, son," the older wizard stated. "My wand had a dragon heartstring core, as did your mother's." He glanced at the young wizard. "What's the core of your wand now?"

Draco blinked. "Unicorn hair, just like my old one," he replied. "Is there a significance?"

Lucius looked back at the wand in his hand and shook his head. "I don't know, but I believe there is something. If I knew he'd speak to me, I would send a letter to Ollivander and ask, but I think I've burned that bridge," he said. There was a longing sadness in Lucius's eyes that Draco had never seen before.

Finally, the patriarch lifted the wand, flicked it, and hissed, "_Recordare!_" Blue wisps of smoke flew out of the wand and towards the two Muggles who were bent over the book Hermione showed them.

Time stood still as the Muggles straightened up and their eyes seemed to become somehow less cloudy. They both blinked several times. Then, the Muggle woman looked at her daughter. "Hermione?" she asked.

"Mum!" the girl cried with tears in her eyes. "Dad!"

The trio threw their arms around one another. Watching the scene from the bookshelf, Narcissa reached out and took her husband's hand in one of her own and her son's in the other. Lucius looked at his wife and, propping his walking stick against the chair, touched her cheek with his free hand. "Hey," he whispered. When she looked at him with watery eyes, he kissed her gently.

Though the sight of his parents kissing wasn't one of Draco's favourite things, he didn't release his mother's hand. The blond wizard watched his wife as she hugged her parents. He knew they were whispering things to one another, but he couldn't hear what they were saying.

"Oh, my sweetheart, my darling girl," Mrs. Granger was saying. "What happened? What did you do?"

"I am so, so sorry, Mum," the girl said, tears falling freely from her eyes. "I never wanted to cast that stupid spell, but I had to. The Wizarding world was becoming more and more dangerous and I had to help Harry and Ron on their mission to defeat Voldemort." She guided her parents to the chairs by the fireplace and sat down. "I promised myself that I would reverse the spell once he was dead. I even went to Australia, but the counter I had wouldn't work. And I tried, I really did. I must have cast it a thousand times."

Mrs. Granger patted her daughter's hand. "The important thing is we're together again," she said.

Hermione's wand pressed against the Muggle born's hand. Looking down at the light wood, her eyes filled with even more tears as they shot up to the wizard. Standing, she threw her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his long hair in the process, but she didn't care. "Thank you," she wept. "I don't know how I could ever repay you."

She had surprised him when she hugged him, but Lucius quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around her waist to return her hug. "You've given me a life outside of prison walls," he whispered to her. "You've married my son and have helped us rebuild our reputation." He broke away from her and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "There's nothing to repay," he said a bit louder so the others would hear. "We're family."

"Wait," Mr. Granger interrupted, putting a hand on his daughter's shoulder and turning her to face him. "You're married."

The Muggle born nodded, but her smile turned sad. "I am," she replied honestly. "I –"

"You married without your mother and me to give you away," he said, his eyes hardening. "Hermione Jean Granger, I know we've raised you better than that."

The young witch straightened up. It had been so long since anyone had spoken to her like that and if it had been anyone but one of her parents, she would have probably hexed them. As it was, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "I know. I should have waited, but –."

"We were both in a rush to marry, sir," Draco said, stepping up to defend his wife. "We had wanted to be together for years and…"

"I remember you," the Muggle woman said suddenly, looking at Draco with new eyes. "Didn't you used to antagonize Hermione and her friends?"

"Well, yes," he admitted. He then chuckled, "But surely you know how young boys can be? They see a girl they think is pretty, but don't want to admit it at the time, so they tease her instead."

"For six years?" she prodded. "Surely at some point during that time the fear of cooties would disappear to be replaced with something a bit more romantic."

Draco could feel himself paling, but he ignored it. "Well, this is true," he confessed, his eyes glancing at his curious parents and back again.

Hermione leaned against him, resting a hand on his chest. "It was a difficult time," she told her parents. "With Voldemort's return, having a Pureblood date a Muggle born, especially if that Pureblood was a Malfoy, was completely unthinkable."

"And why is that?" Mr. Granger asked, his eyes going back and forth between his daughter and the wizard she held.

It was Lucius who spoke up, "Years ago, before either of our children were born, I had joined the Death Eater ranks. However, after the Dark Lord disappeared the first time, I still felt a bit of loyalty to the beliefs he had held." He tapped his cane on the ground once and continued, "No one expected him to return and I admit I was beginning to feel rather comfortable in my own skin. But the Dark Lord did return and the idea that my son could be in love with a Muggle born wasn't just unthinkable, it was also dangerous. If the Dark Lord would have learned of my son's affection for your daughter, I assure you they both would have been murdered."

"By Bellatrix, no doubt," Mrs. Granger guessed

Lucius inclined his head. "Now that the Dark Lord is vanquished and Bellatrix is dead, my son and your daughter are free to love one another without any fear," he told them.

"I wish you had been there," Draco proclaimed. "In our fourth year, I had stolen a kiss from Hermione as we danced during the Yule Ball. From that moment, I had dreamed of being given the opportunity to ask your permission to marry her," he told them. "But when the time came, I had learned that the two of you had settled in Australia with your memories erased. Because my father was a Death Eater, he had been incarcerated almost the moment after the battle was won by Harry Potter and those who fought with him. We needed him out, but the Minister wouldn't listen to us, even though my father had done nothing wrong when the Dark Lord had returned."

"So you decide to just marry her?" Mr. Granger asked. "Did you think that by marrying her, your father would be cleared of his charges? And what about her career?" He glanced at the Muggle born. "You had a lot of plans for your future, if I recall. What has happened to those ideas?"

"I'm still moving forward with them," Hermione said. "And Draco and his father have been helping me. Even Mrs. Malfoy helps."

"You are still a bit young, Hermione," her mother stated. "You both are. I've no doubt that Draco is a lovely lad now, he's certainly been courteous and kind since we've met, but… How long were you engaged?"

"A few weeks," the Muggle born answered faintly.

"'A few weeks!'" Mr. Granger repeated, raising his voice. "Are you mad? How long did you date?"

"Does it matter?" Draco asked, noticing his wife was becoming uncomfortable. "We're happy, we're in love, we're…"

"Pregnant," Hermione blurted out. She stared at her stunned husband. "I checked this morning. I'm pregnant."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Wait, what?!

**SereniteRose**: David Bowie will always be a part of my heart, as will Alan Rickman. I'm glad you liked the tattoos and the Derby. Yes, the horses were winged horses as the game took place in the air. ;)

**shaymars**: The derby was rather exciting, wasn't it? And Blaise and Padma are such a lovely couple. As for the rest, well...

**Cinnamon Silver Tiger**: I do hope you are still reading and enjoying this story as much as I am enjoying writing it.

As for my **guest**, yes, I agree. May he rest in peace. And Alan Rickman as well. There will never be a better man to play Severus Snape. Though he is physically gone, he will be remembered. Always.


	32. Chapter 32

Silence prevailed the room as everyone stared at Hermione in shock, but the witch only had eyes for one person. She had always been amazed by how well he had been able to hide his emotions and it didn't take her long to learn that he was quite the skilled Occlumens. Given that Voldemort had once presided within these walls, such a thought wasn't surprising, but it always made it difficult for her to discern what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

She watched in wonder as she could literally see the walls come crashing down in his eyes. Shock and fear swirled within his silver eyes and then she saw it. For the first time in her life, Hermione saw true hope in Draco's eyes. "Draco?" she whispered, breaking the silence.

His mouth hung slightly open as he stared at her. He momentarily forgot how to breathe and his heart skipped a beat. "Is it true?" he asked, his voice a soft rasp.

Pressing her lips together, Hermione gave him a soft smile and nodded. He suddenly sprang into action, grabbing her by the waist and picking her up in a hug. He twirled her around a few times and she threw her head back, laughing. When he finally put her down, it was to give her a deep, passionate kiss.

Neither Draco nor Hermione knew what their parents were doing, nor did they particularly care. Releasing her, his lips drew back in a wide smile that showed his straight, white teeth. His brows dancing along his forehead as he breathed, "I'm going to be a father?"

She giggled. "Yes, my prince," she told him. "You're going to be a father."

He hugged her again, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her lips, her chin… every bit of her face that he could. He then buried his face in her neck, holding her tightly against him. "A father," his hot breath tickled the tender skin and she tilted her head towards him in reaction.

They broke apart and he turned to his parents. "I'm going to be a father!" he told them, his eyes as wide as his smile.

Narcissa shared in his joy, smiling as she opened her arms to embrace her son. Lucius was happy as well, inclining his head proudly and giving his son a soft smile. "Congratulations," the man said.

"My baby's pregnant!" Mrs. Granger gasped and Hermione turned to her mother.

Mr. Granger frowned. "You'll be twenty-one soon, Hermione. Are you sure?"

The Muggle born simply smiled and gave the man a nod. "Yes, Daddy, I'm sure," she told him. "One thing I've learned from the war is that life is short. I lost some very close friends who will never be able to have even a percentage of the life I have now. I want… I need to make the most of what I've got." She took her mother's hand and turned to the Malfoys to see Narcissa resting her head on Draco's chest and smiling at the Muggle born. Hermione returned her smile. "I've never been more content with my life. Draco has done so much for me."

She glanced up at her father. "Early this morning I was called away to my office and, whilst there, I learned that one of my proposals had been accepted and we're finally starting to work on the actual law," she gave a small smile and let her eyes gaze back at her husband. "That wouldn't've been possible without the generous amount of money Draco gave. I also learned that he had purchased the land Pansy and I were looking at the other day." She tilted her head. "Plans are being drawn now, my prince, for the school."

He nodded and she continued, "I don't know where I would be were it not for him." She looked back at her parents. "He's given me a life, hope, love… He's helped me bring you home and his father restored your memories. None of this would ever have been possible without Draco. I'm well and truly blessed."

Releasing his mother, Draco approached his wife from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting a head on her shoulder. "I feel just as blessed, love," he murmured. "You've helped me learn to live and laugh again. I've never been happier than I have with you."

Mrs. Granger looked at her daughter. There were tears in the Muggle woman's eyes and she held out a hand to take the girl's. Hermione accepted and Draco released her so she could embrace her mother. "Oh, my Hermione," the older woman said as she rested her head against the witch's. "All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. To be the best woman you could be in life."

The Muggle born smiled as she looked at her mother. "And I am, Mum," she told her. "Life as Draco's wife isn't always the happiest. We have our downs as well as our ups, but he completes me in every way. You'll see. Did you know he was second in our class?" She gave a smirk to her father. "He would've been first had it not been for me. And the year Harry, Ron, and me were on the run, Draco was Head Boy. I would've been Head Girl if it hadn't been for the war."

"Head Boy?" Mrs. Granger asked, looking at Draco. "Handsome, charming, and intelligent?" Her eyes shifted to Lucius as she asked, "Are you sure you're not part Greek God? Only, after living with Hermione for the better part of her life, it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest."

Lucius chuckled, actually chuckled, and shook his head. "There is no Greek in our ancestry, though we do have quite a bit of Roman blood. I doubt it has anything to do with the gods, however," he said respectfully.

Mrs. Granger turned her attention to Draco. Letting go of her daughter, she touched either side of Draco's face with the tips of her fingers. "Would you know when Hugo and I were changing in our rooms, when we thought we were Monica and Wendell, I made a comment of how much I wished I had a daughter so she could meet a fellow like you? Little did I know that she actually has," she told him with a smile. Then, she pulled Draco to her in a hug. "Welcome to the family, my dear."

Draco returned her hug, a rather goofy smile playing on his lips. "You as well," he said, kissing her cheek and stepping away.

"You'll treat her right," Mr. Granger said to Draco sternly, his eyes unwavering as he glared at the young wizard.

Though Draco felt a sense of amusement at the Muggle's words, he inclined his head respectfully. "Yes, sir," he replied.

"You'll support her endeavours, you'll never leave her wanting," the man continued. "And, most importantly, you'll never hurt her."

"Yes, sir," Draco said again, as he worked hard not to crack a smile. "You'll never have to worry about her with me."

"I better not," Mr. Granger threatened. "I happen to know Mr. Harry Potter and I know the relationship she shares with him. If I give the word, there isn't a doubt in my mind that he'll hunt you down and destroy you."

Draco couldn't help himself as he snorted. "Somehow I think he'd hunt me down regardless of what you say," he said. "With pleasure, too." He shook his head. "Your daughter is in good hands with me, sir, and I really do wish I could have asked you before taking her hand. In fact, I had planned that very thing until I was told about your memory loss. After that, it became my mission to do what I could to help my father restore your memories so I could receive your blessings."

"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, you have raised such a perfect gentleman," Mrs. Granger gushed.

The smile on the Pureblood witch's face broadened. "Narcissa, please," she said. "As Draco has stated, we're family now."

"Then I insist on you calling me Rosie," the Muggle woman replied and the ladies touched cheeks with one another.

Lucius rested his hand on his wife's waist as the ladies parted and inclined his head. "And you may call me Lucius, if it pleases you," he told the Muggle woman.

"Oh, I have a very large desire to call you Adonis," she told the wizard. At his soft smile, she continued, "But I suppose Lucius will do as well. Did you know that Lucius was originally a Roman general who had fought against King Arthur? It's a very strong, proud name to have."

Draco smirked at Hermione. "Now I see where you get it from," he teased, kissing her forehead.

Hermione lifted her hand to pop his chest, but stopped herself. "We're going to have a baby soon," she reminded him and he beamed.

"That we will," he agreed.

She met his eyes and offered him a smile for a moment before it faltered. "I spoke to Ron today," she told him.

"You did what?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at her.

She nodded and told him about what had happened.

(II)(II)

_Earlier that day…_

Ron knocked on the open door. "Hermione? May I speak to you for a moment?"

The Muggle born glanced up from her desk and rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Ronald?" she asked tiredly.

He stepped into the room and pushed the door so that there was just a crack in it. She watched as he crossed the room, indicating a chair next to him. "May I?"

She waved her hand in irritation. "If you must."

Sitting down, he stared at his hands. "I wanted to apologize to you," he started.

"What?"

He shook his head. "I realize that I've never treated you right," he told her. "For years you wanted to be with me and I kept turning you down. I was stupid and couldn't see what I had in front of me. Then, after the war…" He looked up, but found he couldn't meet her eyes, so he let his eyes fall to the desk. "All I ever wanted was to make you happy, but how could I? I knew you were hurting what with your parents and everything else. Ginny told me that you had taken much of the deaths onto your own shoulders and felt that you were at fault." He looked at her. "You weren't. Fred, Lavender, Parvarti… Everyone who died. It wasn't your fault, Hermione. Just like it wasn't Harry's. They all died fighting for a cause they believed in. Your parents? That's not your fault either."

"I Oblivated them, Ron," she said as she felt a lump in her throat begin to form.

"You did what you had to do to protect your family," he corrected her. "No one can be blamed for that. I…" He sat back in his chair as his eyes lit with a realization. "You did the same thing Malfoy did. You're the brightest witch of our age, Hermione. You've always put others before yourself and I'm an idiot." His eyes welled with tears that he refused to shed. "I thought I had you. Thought you were mine. And you were so strong, especially after the war that I didn't even stop to think that you could be just as broken as I was. I was selfish," he confessed, staring at the desk. "I'm still selfish. And you were right, just like you've always been. I still love you, Hermione. I always will, but I know now that I never could have made you happy. You need someone who is as dedicated to you as you are to them. Someone who can lift you up and catch you when you fall. I could never be that man, but Malfoy… Draco, I think, is." His eyes lifted back up to hers. "I truly am sorry for all the hurt I've caused you. A friend should never hurt a friend and I…" He shook his head and stared back at his hands.

Hermione had watched him all during his little speech and she could feel her heart clench the more he spoke. "We used to be such good friends," she told him. "What happened between us?"

He scoffed. "We dated," he said honestly. "Then I asked you to marry me."

"Yes. Why did you ask me to marry you?" she asked as she reclined back in her chair.

He shrugged. "Thought it was what I was supposed to do," he replied honestly. "Harry and Ginny were getting married and, well, isn't that the next step?"

She sighed. "For what it's worth, I forgive you, Ronald," she told him finally.

He smiled hopefully at her. "Friends?"

She shook her head. "No. No, I don't think so," she said. As she watched him become crestfallen, she explained, "It's not that I don't want to be friends, I just… We lead two very different lives and, while I do forgive you for all that you've done, I can't forget it. You hurt me a lot. For years, too. And if I forget that, it might cause you to forget as well and we'll end up right back where we are now."

"It'd be different though," he told her. "You're married to Draco now. I can't hurt you anymore."

"You're right," she said with a raised eyebrow. "You can't because I won't let you. My life is with Draco and with Lucius and Narcissa. They are my family and have been my support system for over two months now. I may not understand all of it, but I know a bit about the animosity between your family and mine. I don't see it changing any time soon, though we can be cordial to one another. Maybe one day, when we're old and grey and wrinkly, we can be friends. But for right now… I'll accept your apology and we'll part ways. I do care about you, Ronald. But it's like you've said. I will always do what I feel is right for my family and they are my family."

They both stood up and shook hands. "I guess this is goodbye?" he asked. At her nod, he took a deep breath and sighed. "I'll see you around, Mrs. Malfoy."

"See you, Mr. Weasley," she replied. "Please, shut the door on your way out?"

As he did what she asked, she sat back down in her chair and finally cried. On the other side of the door, Ron leaned against the wood and cried as well. Their time together was truly over.

(III)(III)

_Still earlier that same day…_

"Oh, Hermione!" Luna said wistfully as she danced into the office. "I have such wonderful news that you'll never believe."

The Muggle born smiled. "And what is that?" she asked.

The young Ravenclaw giggled. "Theo is going with me to find Erumphants and Cogginods," she told her friend.

The Gryffindor gave the girl an amused look. "You really do like him, don't you?"

Luna gave a slight nod. "He understands me," she explained. "You know his mum died from experimenting with potions? Only, he was just a wee lad when it happened and he doesn't remember it at all. Still, it does warm my heart knowing how much we have in common. We're going to travel the world, you see."

"You'll be back in England for Blaise and Padma's wedding, though, won't you?" the Muggle born asked.

Luna nodded. "Of course! I wouldn't want to miss it for anything. And there's still your birthday party to go to," she added with her usual wistful smile.

Hermione groaned. "Oh, don't remind me," she joked.

(IV)(IV)

She had gotten home from her office and found a note left to her from Draco.

"My princess,

I hope you'll forgive me for not being here to welcome you home. I had some business to take care of and it required my immediate attention. My parents have asked me this morning if we could dine with them tonight and you know I can never turn them down. Also, Mother mentioned to me this morning if you would be willing to help her make some decorations for your birthday. (I don't know what that's all about.) I will be at Malfoy Manor this evening, I promise.

Love truly,

Draco"

She pressed a hand to her abdomen as she read the letter a couple of times. Why Narcissa needed her help, she hadn't a clue, but she did enjoy spending time with the Pureblood witch. Despite their differences, or maybe in spite of them, Hermione had grown rather attached to her mother-in-law. The whole idea of a "first generation" witch or wizard was, admittedly, a bit insulting, but it was also endearing. For the Muggle born, it showed true effort from her in-laws to learn to accept her as one of their own.

She changed into something a bit more comfortable than her work clothes and cast the pregnancy charm, expecting, like always, for her wand to emit a red light. But this time, it didn't. Hermione froze mid-step and cast it again. To her pure shock, a green light shot from her wand. Her jaw dropped and she touched her stomach.

She hurried to the floor length mirror and cast the spell again. Green. She gasped, holding back a sob. They had been trying so hard and now… She kneeled down on the floor and sat on her legs. Covering her face with her hands, she wept.

Ever since Hermione had started dating Draco, Narcissa had done everything she could to make the Muggle born feel welcomed. Even Lucius had started warming up to her once she and Draco were married. But this? A baby? Their baby.

There weren't words that could express this moment well enough for the bookworm. They were finally going to be a family. And that meant everything in the world to her.

(V)(V)

"Ah, Hermione, my dear," Lucius said as the Muggle born Apparated into the drawing room. He was sitting at the piano with his wife, though from the looks of their position, Hermione highly doubted they were actually playing any music.

The Muggle born gave an uncomfortable smile. "Should I return later?" she asked, blushing.

"Oh no, darling!" Narcissa said as she untangled herself from her husband's embrace. "Lucius was just playing me the first song we had ever danced to as a married couple. I was so enchanted that I simply forgot myself."

Hermione placed a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle that she felt bubbling up. "No, really, I can come back," she told them.

"Nonsense," Lucius argued as he fixed his robes and straightened up. He turned to look at her. "You're already here. Besides, I wanted to speak with you about something."

Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip. What was the appropriate way to tell a gentleman his fly was open? Thankfully, Narcissa spared her the embarrassment as she stepped in front of her husband, rose up on her toes and whispered something in his ear.

Hermione had never witnessed mortification from Lucius Malfoy, and, to her surprise, she didn't witness it now. He simply reached down and zipped up his trousers as though nothing awkward had happened. "Do you think Mrs. Potter would fancy that colt that was recently born?" he asked effectively diverting the Muggle born's attention.

Tilting her head, Hermione looked at the wizard curiously. "Colt?" she asked.

He inclined his head as he limped to the liquor cabinet. "I was sure Draco had taken you to see it," he commented. Taking out three tumblers, he began filling them with brandy.

Noticing what he was doing, Hermione shook her head. "Oh, none for me, Father," she told him. "Please. I…" The memory she had of the tour flashed in her mind. "I do remember seeing the horses," she said. "Though, I don't think I… Wait. That house elf did tell Draco that one of the mares was going to have a foal soon." She smiled. "She had a colt! Oh, I know you must be happy, but why would it matter what Ginny thought of it?"

He handed a glass to Narcissa and took a sip from his own. "I was contemplating giving it to her," he answered.

The Muggle born's eyes widened. "You were what?" she asked, not sure she had heard him correctly.

Lucius lifted his shoulders slightly. "It would be no loss to our brood as we have at least two more mares with foals on the way," he told her. "And I know Mr. Potter has no room to house such an animal, so it would no doubt stay here anyway. However, it has promise to be a fine beast that I'm sure your friend would love. And she can come here any time, day or night, to see it. Once it's old enough to be trained, she can even decide what she wants to do with it, whether it should be a derby horse or not."

Narcissa smiled and gave a little wrinkle of her nose that reminded Hermione of that old television show "Bewitched" that her parents used to enjoy watching. The Muggle born bit back a laugh at the thought. "He does come from the finest bloodline, too, darling. You've seen his father perform, after all, in the derby."

The young witch giggled at that. "Comet? Oh, Ginny loved Comet! I'm sure she'd love his colt, too," she told the wizard. "I'll have to send her an owl and invite her to the estate."

"If you'd like, we can always wait until after your birthday," he suggested. "That way, she can truly enjoy the idea without it being overshadowed by your celebration."

Hermione nodded in surprise. "Yes, of course," she murmured and then added, "That's very thoughtful of you, Father. Normally you would be more interested in overshadowing everyone else. How much have you had to drink?"

The man scoffed. "I am a respectable person, my dear," he said haughtily, his head held high. "Besides, it isn't likely Potter will be buying any land any time soon, so the colt will stay here for a bit longer."

The Muggle born smiled. "Unless Harry decides to buy that piece of land out in Cambridge," she said nonchalantly.

The patriarch's eyes widened. "Why in God's name would he buy land out there?" he asked, looking at her.

The witch shrugged as she sat down near the bookshelf. "Well, he and Ginny live in London, you know? Grimmauld Place. And he has his parents' home in Godric's Hollow."

"Is he going to sell them?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she told them both. "He has no interest in selling the home his parents once lived in and Grimmauld Place just has so much history in it. Never mind the fact that both homes are wizarding homes and anyone living in Grimmauld Place would have to deal with Mrs. Black."

Narcissa lifted an eyebrow to which Hermione shrugged. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sure your parents may have been close to Mrs. Walburga Black, but her portrait shows nothing but a horrible woman who would, no doubt, flay all of us alive."

"Why don't you just take the portrait down?" The older woman asked. "My aunt wasn't the most pleasant woman even in life."

"She put a permanent sticking charm on it," Hermione answered. "I've tried figuring out a way…"

"That's an easy fix," Lucius said suddenly. "If I were able to go to Grimmauld Place, I could take care of it."

Hermione gave him a kind smile. "I've no doubt you could," she told him. "However, that would be considered skipping out on your probation and you wouldn't be the only one getting in trouble. Also, I would rather you be here, free, than locked up in some cell."

He looked at her curiously as he joined her by the bookcase and took the chair opposite her. "And why is that, my dear?"

She wanted to tell him about the baby, but she felt that she should wait. Draco deserved to be the first to know. So, instead, she commented, "You're Draco's father. I… I know what it's like to be without one's parents. On the best of days, you feel a tightening in your chest and a bit of sadness. On the worst… The entire world is before you and you can feel the ground trying to swallow you up. You can't breathe, you can't do anything. Nothing is right. Nothing will ever be right again…" She stared out nothing, her gaze unfocused, though her eyes looked towards the books. Then, she looked at Lucius. Really looked at him. "Draco's going to lose you one day," she told him cryptically and he met her eyes. "Both of you. One day, I don't know how long it's going to be, but one day he's going to wake up and you're not going to be here."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, turning it away from him. "The time you've spent in Azkaban because of a madman was bad enough. I can't… I won't put Draco through that again. I will do everything I can to protect him from that pain."

When she opened her eyes, it was to see the wizard's hand reaching out to hers. He took her small hand into his two large ones and she glanced up at him, meeting those stormy eyes that looked so much like her husband's. Just like with Draco, it was hard to tell what the man was thinking.

"You'll never know how grateful I am, my dear," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion, though he showed none of it on his face. Hermione caught the way he swallowed, however, and she knew he had pushed past a lump in his throat. "You've given me a second chance that most people wouldn't."

She sighed. "Just… Please don't make me regret it? Hopefully, Draco and I will have children soon, or sometime in the near future. I want you to be in their lives. I want them to know their grandfather, not as the Death Eater who got himself caught and thrown in Azkaban for the rest of his life, but as this highly educated, loving wizard who would do anything for his family. You have your flaws, we all do, but I've seen the good man you can be if you just let him."

"My crimes have made it almost impossible," he pointed out. "All the things I've done…"

"I forgive you," she said, placing her free hand atop his hands. "And one day, everyone else will, too. And if they don't, well… that's on them. The important thing, Father, is to forgive yourself."

Hermione could have sworn she could see tears in his eyes, but they never fell and with a blink and a smile, they were gone.

(VI)(VI)

_Present_…

Draco just stared at his wife as she told him about Ron and the conversation she had had with him. When she finished, the blond wizard didn't say anything for a long time. He released his hold on her and turned away, staring at the wall as he thought.

"Draco?" she asked hesitantly.

He closed his eyes. The Weasel had spoken to Hermione, but it was more of an apology than anything. He hadn't tried to get back with her and even Hermione hadn't seemed to want to rekindle anything with the red haired pauper. He turned back to her and looked at her with a single eyebrow raised. "If I had it my way," he told her, "you would never have anything to do with that pauper ever again."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a finger. "However," he continued, "I know the three of you had gone through a lot together. Not just with those months spent Merlin knows doing what during our seventh year, but in the years leading up to that as well."

He placed a hand on either of her arms so that they were standing face to face. "You mean everything to me, Hermione," he told her. "You always have." She raised her eyebrows and he gave a soft smirk. "Yes, even when we were in school and I teased you. The moment I saw you, I wanted to be with you. I believe I even wrote to my father that same day, or maybe it was the next, to tell him about you." He glanced at his father and received a nod of confirmation. Draco turned back to Hermione. "When I learned what you were… I was angry for a while. A long while, honestly. I think I even took it out on you a bit."

He wrinkled his nose as he let go of her. "How can a girl with no magical background at all be so damn smart and beautiful? You beat me at everything, no matter how hard I tried. You were always a step ahead," he said. "I wanted to hate you, you know. I even vocally wished for your death. That year when Muggle borns were dropping like flies, I kept telling people I had hoped you'd be the next one. And then you were and…" He sat down and, resting his elbows on his thighs, he leaned forward. "I'll be honest with you, Hermione. Something I hadn't been to myself all those years ago. When I had heard that you had been Petrified, I could literally feel as though something was dying inside of me. Even worse, I had no one to go to. No one would understand my infatuation with you and, at the time, I believed that's all it was. Then the Yule Ball came. One look at you and I knew I was done for." He glanced up at her. "When we kissed… it was Heaven and it was Hell, because I knew we could never be."

He reached into his pocket and took out the picture that had been taken of them in the library. "And then I received this with a letter," he told her, handing her the photo. "It actually gave me some hope, though I had dismissed it at first, but I knew that if we were to have any chance at all, I would need my parents' approval."

Hermione studied the picture, completely mystified. "I never knew," she whispered.

He shook his head. "I doubt you were the only one who didn't," he replied. "I didn't know how I was going to go about it, and, honestly, it really was bad timing. The Dark Lord had returned and shit was about to start happening that I had no control over. But every night, after everyone else was asleep, I would stare at that photo of us dancing under the stars and I would dream up different scenarios of how we would end up together," he told her. "After my father went into Azkaban the first time, I had even come up with this idea of my mum finding me looking at the photo, but I couldn't risk it. Not with the Dark Lord and Aunt Bellatrix staying here at the Manor. If one of them would have seen…" He shook his head. "No, better that they never knew. Instead, I bided my time. When you and your friends escaped here, I knew that you were going to win. I don't know how I knew, but I knew. I just hoped you would remain living. Once the war was over…"

He stood up and turned away from her, meeting his father's astonished eyes before turning from them to look at his wife again. "I'm a coward, Hermione," he admitted. "After all was said and done, I felt like I didn't deserve you. I knew you would return to Hogwarts, so I hid in my Manor, trying to pretend I didn't exist and painfully awaiting news that you and Weasley had married so I could move on with my pathetic life. But you didn't. A couple of years went by and you still weren't married. My father was incarcerated, my mother was set in a permanent state of depression. The Manor walls were beginning to cave in around me and I knew I had to do something. So, I began taking that photo out again."

"With the same idea of your mother seeing you with it?" the young witch suggested.

"Brightest witch of our age," he said with a smile. "Yes. And she did. I let her think I was an unwilling participant in her schemes, but inside I was literally jumping with glee, especially if I could pull it off."

"Which you did," Hermione finished. "We're together now. Forever. But Draco, how did you know?"

He cocked a bow and shrugged. "I suppose I was relying on the idea that you would come to forgive me of the things I had done. That you would see past the boy who had become a Death Eater. That you would see the real me. It had taken careful planning," he told her. "Flowers from an unknown suitor set right when I knew you would meet up with the Weasel, allowing my little house elf to follow me around like a pup, and, most importantly, being there to comfort you when you were upset after the fight I knew would occur over the flowers."

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. They were quiet for a while, Narcissa glared at her son for a moment, but then she knew how madly in love with the Muggle born he was, so she took a deep sigh of defeat. Lucius placed a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder.

"I should be angry with you," Hermione said finally. "But for some reason, I'm not. You only did what you've always done."

The young Slytherin looked at his wife curiously. "And what was that?"

Hermione looked around the room, waving an arm to indicate the people standing there before turning back to him. "Whatever it took to bring our family together."

* * *

Author's Note: Um... so... I think that's that. I honestly cannot add anymore to this story. How did that happen? Anyone else tear up over the interaction between Ron and Hermione? I actually choked on a tear. Odd. I'm just... I swear to you all, I hadn't meant for this to be the end, but there it is. Maybe I'll do a sequel or something later on.

shaymars: Yeah. I figured they would be. At least, I know that's how my parents would have reacted, though I'm sure my dad would have ended up arrested for either attempted murder or straight up homicide. Lol

AnnaCelestine: Yeah, actually, the whole reason I added the scene with Draco going through his things was because of Alan Rickman and David Bowie. For me it was a bit of childhood that should be treasured and will be. Love them both and they will forever be in my heart. As Snape will remain in Draco's. It is strange to see someone think horrible thoughts about another person, especially when that person is someone we love. It drives me mad when I read hateful comments about Draco, for example, and I refuse to read a story where he isn't redeemed or somehow becomes a better man. So, yeah, seeing him think things about Hermione, though he'd never act on them, is an interesting change in pace. Had I started this story from her perspective, or allowed her perspective to come through more, I'm sure we would have seen some pretty negative thoughts about Draco.

SereniteRose: I'm glad she's pregnant, too. And I'm sure her parents are angry with her, but they are in shock. And it kind of helps that their daughter married one of the richest blokes in England, wizard or not. ;)

Kats02980416: Where have you been? Lol! You were reviewing every chapter and then _poof!_ Hope everything's alright. I'm glad everything had worked out well within the story, too. Absolutely love that Hermione's pregnant.

Lena: I made those corrections you mentioned. Thank you for pointing them out. Not always the best editor of my own work . And, surprisingly, you were right. I seriously thought I was going to add more, but I really didn't want it to be too drawn out, you know?

Hope you all enjoyed this! I may, or may not, add an epilogue. Haven't decided yet, but I really think this story is done. It's been beautiful.


	33. Epilogue

Hermione sat in the study in her home and was reading the Prophet while absently rubbing her stomach. She was about five months along now and it certainly showed. Narcissa was constantly at the small manor checking in on the mother-to-be. The care and concern the older witch showed was endearing to the Muggle born, if a bit troublesome.

She heard her husband closing the entrance door and answered when he called her name, "I'm in here!"

The blond stepped into the room and smiled at his wife. "What are you reading?" he asked curiously as he approached her and placed a tender kiss on her cheek.

She ran her finger over a line in the Prophet. "They caught the guy who sent that rogue Bludger at Ginny," she told him. "A Thomas Eagleton for the Chudley Cannons. He's been sent to Azkaban and booked for one account of attempted murder, one account of negligent homicide, and two accounts of human endangerment." She glanced up at him. "He's been kicked off the team and blacklisted from Quidditch and anything to do with the sport."

Draco tilted his head slightly to read the paper. "Do they say why he did it?" he asked.

The Muggle born witch snorted. "Does he need a reason? Ginny's the youngest Chaser to ever be hired by the Harpies and bloody good at her job."

"So, she has her job back, then?" he questioned, glancing at his wife.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Not exactly? I mean, they offered it to her, sure, but she's pregnant again," the bushy haired witch informed him. "Honestly, I think Ginny's willingly sitting out the next few seasons or so. She doesn't want the same incident to happen twice."

He nodded sagely. "Smart girl," he praised.

She frowned. "She could still beat you," she pointed out.

"I haven't played Quidditch in years, love," he drawled as he sat on the couch next to her. "I wouldn't be surprised if Harry bloody Potter could beat me at this juncture."

She giggled. "Even when you did play, he still beat you," she teased.

His eyes narrowed. "Oh yeah?" Grabbing her by the waist he began tickling her as she struggled to get out of his grasp. But he was stronger and much faster. They laughed as she shrieked and begged him to stop.

Pulling her into his lap, he gazed up into those big, honey orbs that he loved so much. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, reaching up to kiss her gently on the lips.

(II)(II)

Much to everyone's surprise, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born on his father's birthday. While Harry and others teased Draco about it, stating he would have to forever share a birthday with his son, Draco didn't see much problem with that.

"Well, Hermione, looks like you'll never have to buy Draco another birthday present," Theo joked as he had an arm wrapped around Luna.

An exhausted Hermione glanced up at him from her bed and smiled. "Oh, no, Theo," she corrected. "I couldn't possibly go a year without getting him something. I just… don't have to work as hard in choosing from now on."

The dark haired man laughed and gave her a wink. "Make him an amulet to keep away the Nargles," he suggested.

Luna looked at him curiously. "But, Theo, I've already given him one of those," she said.

"Darling, there's a baby in the manor now," he reasoned. "Knowing Draco, he's going to need far more than just one amulet."

"Oi! Speak for yourself, you overgrown weed!" the blond hissed, causing the group to chuckle.

Theo held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm just stating facts, mate," he said.

"No. You're exaggerating facts to impress a girl," Draco corrected. "News flash, you slimy git, you already bloody have her."

That elicited more chuckles and Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, Draco, can you not use such language around the baby?"

"It's not like he won't ever hear it, love," he said. "Besides, he's still a baby."

She glared at him. "Draco Malfoy, if my child's first word is a swear word, I will hex you."

(III)(III)

Ginny wasn't particularly keen on spending her birthday at Malfoy Manor, but Hermione had insisted.

"I promise you won't regret it," the Muggle born said as she led Ginny across the grounds.

"Where are we going?" the red head asked for the umpteenth time, but the older witch did not answer.

When they arrived at the stables, Ginny was astounded by the magnificent beasts within. "It never occurred to me how much you may like horses," the bushy haired witch said with a smile. "But given your enthusiasm at the derby, it was very obvious that you were. Nevermind the fact that your Patronus…"

"Is a horse?" Ginny interrupted with a smirk. "Come now, Hermione. You're supposed to be smart."

"Brightest witch," the Muggle born repeated with a shrug. "Sometimes I wonder if I should dye my own hair blond."

The Pureblood giggled. "Oh, no, please don't," she begged. "It's bad enough that both your son and husband are blonds."

"I know, right?" Hermione said with a smirk.

"And what's wrong with being blond?" asked Lucius Malfoy.

The girls turned to see him leaning up against a table covered in brushes. "Absolutely nothing, Father," Hermione assured him. "In fact, I was just telling Ginny how I was thinking of going blond myself."

He frowned. "The colour wouldn't look good on you, my dear," he said with a sniff. "You spend far too much time out in the sun and, if anything, dying your hair is likely to fry it."

"Because my hair isn't bushy enough," she jested.

He lifted a brow. "Indeed," he said as he pushed himself off the table and leaned against his walking stick. "And how are you today, Mrs. Potter?"

"I'm good," she told him with a shrug. "We're having dinner at Grimmauld Place later. I really do wish you could come, but, well…"

He inclined his head. "The invitation has been received, my dear, and I regret that I cannot be there," he said. "However, I am thankful that you agreed to come here to see me on this special day."

"Hermione told me there was something you wished to speak to me about," she replied, looking at him curiously.

He nodded. "Yes, if the two of you will follow me?" he requested.

They agreed and he led them out to a small paddock where a young Granian colt pranced happily around, kicking at a large ball and rearing at it. Both of the girls gasped and cooed at the colt. Realizing he now had an audience, the colt upped his little game, showing off by kicking the ball with his rear legs and throwing dust up in the air. They giggled.

"Where's his mum?" Hermione asked, turning her attention to the wizard.

"He's at that age now where she's starting to push him away," he explained. "So we've started the process of separating them, letting him come here while she flies with the herd. She'll be back eventually to check on him and will bed down with him at night, but for the most part, she allows the handlers to take care of his needs."

"He's beautiful," Ginny sighed. "Will he let us pet him?"

Lucius pressed his lips together. "He might," he replied honestly after a moment. "Why don't you go in and see?"

"Go in?" she asked, looking at the man curiously.

He gave a single nod and waved his hand over the paddock gate. As it sprung to life and opened enough to admit her, the colt stopped prancing and gazed at the trio of human with interest. Eyes wide, Ginny glanced at the wizard once more. He gave her a soft smile and indicated with a sweep of his hand that she should enter the paddock.

A broad smile appeared across Ginny's face and she looked at Hermione one more time before entering the paddock. The little colt stared at her, his little bob of a tail swishing back and forth. "What's his name?" the ginger haired witch asked as she drew her attention to the colt.

Lucius closed the gate behind her and shook his head. "He doesn't have one yet," he told her. "Make sure you let him come to you."

She shot the wizard a "duh" look and turned back to the colt. Lucius simply chuckled as Ginny pretended to be interested in a small patch of grass. The little colt did not like being seemingly ignored and he pranced in a small circle and kicked dust up into the air, but the witch simply bent down and brushed the tips of her fingers along the grass. The colt snorted and pawed at the ground. Prancing over to her, he stomped on the grass she was fondling and trotted away.

"Hey!" she scolded as Hermione and Lucius both chuckled. "You little prat," the ginger continued, though there was no heat in her scorn. "Definitely a Malfoy colt, that much is certain."

Lucius's smile faltered a bit and he glanced at Hermione. She just shrugged. "Well, you can't deny it," she told him with a smirk that would rival his own.

The wizard lifted a brow. "Indeed," was all he said before turning his attention back to the ginger. "There's a pail of treats, Mrs. Potter," he told her, indicating the pail off to his left with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps you can coax him to you."

Ginny glanced up at him and let her eyes follow where he was pointing. She straightened up and walked to the pail, the little colt, out of sheer curiosity, following close behind her. She looked into the pail before reaching inside. At the rattle of the treats against the tin, the colt's ears perked up and his tail started swishing back and forth eagerly.

"Oh, now you want to be my friend?" she asked the colt as she turned her attention to him. It would have been so easy to reach a hand out to pet him, he was so close, but she refrained. Instead, she held a treat out for him.

He took it and bounded away from her, tossing his head in the air and kicking more dust. Ginny giggled as she watched him play with the treat before eating it. "Yup, definitely a Malfoy," she concluded, sharing a look with Hermione.

The Muggle born giggled. "You should see if he'll let you pet him now," she suggested.

Ginny took another treat from the pail and showed it to him. He bounded towards her, stopping when he got close enough. Holding the treat out for him, she reached with her free hand towards his neck. She purred as she took a step towards him, "Oh, there's a sweet lad. It's alright."

His ears swivelled back and forth as he took the treat from her. She managed to touch his neck before he bound away from her again. Sighing, she walked back to the gate and Lucius let her through. She and Hermione leaned against the fence as they watched the colt dance in the sunlight.

"What do you think?" Lucius asked, looking at the ginger.

Ginny gave a wistful smile. "He is a beautiful specimen," she told him.

He nodded. "Of course," he responded with a smile. "His father is one of the best sires in all of Britain at the moment. And his team is currently leading in the derby."

"Comet?" Ginny guessed, not taking her eyes off the colt.

Lucius nodded. "This little lad is old enough to begin training," he told her. "Of course, nothing strenuous until he's a bit older, but I reckon in a few years he'll be ready to join his own team or participate in another sport or whatever his owner would like."

Ginny frowned. "An animal this magnificent deserves to be seen," she commented before looking at Lucius. "Has he been sold?"

He shook his head. "I would never sale him. He's far too valuable."

The Gryffindor raised an eyebrow at that. "Then what do you intend to do with him?"

Lucius met her with an intense gaze. "I would like to give him to you," he told her.

Ginny's eyes widened at that and she quickly looked back at the colt. "You what? But I-I don't have any…"

"He would be well tended to here," he explained. "And you would be welcomed to come see him any time you wanted, day or night. In time, we'll even make sure he's trained for your saddle, whether you wish to ride him for pleasure or sport. Or you can enlist someone else to ride him if you like, or no one can. The choice would be entirely up to you."

Ginny's eyes teared up and she looked at Lucius. "Why?"

The wizard simply smiled. "Consider it a birthday gift, Mrs. Potter, and allow an old man some peace? We'll be around one another for years to come thanks to my son and your best friend. I would like to bury the hatchet and move on. Perhaps even start over again."

Ginny's eyes narrowed at that. "I cannot convince the Ministry to return your wand or shorten your probation."

"Nor would I ask you to," he said. "My newly acquired daughter is already working on that end. No, my dear. This is merely a gift. A form of apology for a grievous wrong I had done that nearly cost your life."

Ginny turned away from him and stared out at the paddock, watching the colt frolic in the sun. Hermione placed her hand over her friend's to offer support as Ginny thought over Lucius's offer. Finally, she said, "Janus."

Lucius looked at her curiously. "Pardon?"

Ginny inclined her head towards the colt. "His name. We should call him Janus, after the Roman god of new beginnings. It's fitting, don't you think?" she asked as she glanced up at the wizard.

Lucius bowed his head with a smile. "Indeed it is, Mrs. Potter."

(IV)(IV)

Draco walked into his father's study to see Lucius sitting in his armchair by the fire. A glass of brandy was in his hand and he stared down at a heap of linen. The younger wizard looked at the bundle curiously as he sat down in the chair opposite his father. For a moment, neither man said anything.

"How is little Scorpius?" the older wizard finally asked, breaking the silence.

Draco glanced up at his father. "He's well. He's starting to babble now and Hermione wagers he'll be talking soon."

The corner of Lucius's lips twitched as he took a sip of his drink. "Speaking of your wife, how is my daughter?" he questioned. His gaze met his son's and he lifted an eyebrow. "You do realize with offspring there is no getting out of the marriage? The two of you are now, effectively, bound for life."

The young man frowned. "Of course," he said. "I wouldn't want it any other way. Honestly, Father, you aren't still on about it, are you? I thought you actually liked Hermione?"

Lucius nodded. "I do," he replied. "However, you can't deny a father's desire to ensure his child's happiness." He waved his free hand at the lump. "I had taken certain measures to ensure that had you wanted an out…"

Draco scoffed. "Yeah? You would. Father, I've already been through this with you. Hermione is the woman I want. Always has been, even when I didn't want to admit it. This blood prejudice…"

"It's not about blood prejudice!" Lucius hissed angrily, interrupting his son. "I am your father, Draco. It is my job to protect you."

"Bang up job you've done there," the younger man snarked. "Instead of protecting me from the supposed evils of 'lesser blood', maybe you should work to protect us from the real evils of the world."

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "And what evils are those?" he asked.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "What about when Scorpius is old enough that Hermione can return to her job at the Ministry? She'll want to fight for Muggle born rights. Maybe even get a Muggle born or two elected onto the Wizengamot. I don't have the same sort of backing that you do. She'll need you."

"Not sure how much good I'll do," Lucius commented, tossing back the rest of his drink. "Most of my colleagues are either old, dead, retired, or rotting in Azkaban. My 'backing', as you like to call it, is all but vanquished."

"You're a Malfoy," Draco drawled. "And you're a politician. You'll make new colleagues and regain the prestige you once had in no time. That doesn't negate the fact that your 'daughter' will need your help if she's to have any hope of making the needed changes in the Ministry."

Lucius sighed. Putting his empty glass on the table next to him, he reached down and picked up one end of the linen. Producing a knife from his robes, he stabbed the cloth and ripped a whole in it.

Draco frowned as he watched his father tear apart the thick material. "Is that the duvet from our holiday home in France?" he asked.

Lucius threw a piece of it into the fire. "It is," he answered.

The younger wizard blinked. "Why in Salazar's name are you ripping it up?" he asked as he watched his father throw another piece into the flames.

"Because it's useless," Lucius replied, "and there's a stain on it. You know how your mother feels about stains."

Draco's frown deepened. "So, get a house elf to take the stain out. You don't need to…"

Lucius held up the duvet to show his son the stain. Draco's eyes widened when he realized exactly where the duvet came from. "My wedding night," he breathed. "You went into our bedroom and…"

"Don't be absurd! You think I would go into my son's room while he's in the process of consummating his marriage?" Lucius made a face of disgust as he tossed another piece into the flames. "I had someone else do it."

"That doesn't make it better," Draco said, feeling the anger wash over him.

Lucius continued cutting up the cloth until all that was left was the spot of blood. "It is a tradition," he explained, "going back for generations. The father of the groom takes the proof of the consummation and offers it to the family tree."

With that Lucius stood and limped over to the large wall mural of their tree. "If the father has any misgivings of the marriage, he can hold onto it until such a time as when the married couple either has a child or decides they no longer wish to be married."

He pressed the bloody cloth against the wall, swiping it over Draco's name. "It is the only way a Malfoy can get out of a marriage," he told his son as a new name and picture appeared beside Draco's. He looked at his boy. "Forgive me, Son. I only did it because it was expected of me."

Draco stood up and walked to the tree, staring at it in awe. "So, this is it, then?" he asked. "Does this make it completely official that Hermione is a Malfoy?"

Lucius looked at his son. In his eyes, the man was still a boy gazing up in wonder at their family tree. The spark of innocence was gone now, however, forcefully taken by war and a father's insistence on prejudice and perfection. Draco had changed so much, but Lucius was contented with the idea that he would be taken care of. His precious little boy had found love, happiness, and passion.

"Yes," the older wizard said finally. "Hermione is a Malfoy forever and always."

A smile played on Draco's face as he gazed up at the mural. The cloth had stayed attached to the wall when Lucius had withdrew his hand and the young man, fascinated, watched as the wall seemed to soak up the cloth. As the cloth shrunk in size, Hermione's picture became clearer. The spot glowed red and grew brighter until a green flash washed across the entire mural. Draco blinked out the spots in his eyes and smirked. The cloth was gone, absorbed into the mural.

The young wizard felt his heart soar. "I'll have to show Hermione," he told his father.

The mural then shimmered blue and another name appeared on it, just below the young couple's. Scorpius Hyperion.

"He'll be better than either of us ever were," Lucius predicted, staring at the name and picture of his grandson.

Draco nodded slowly and unconsciously rubbed his left arm. "Isn't that why we have children? The future and hope and all the rubbish?" he asked.

Lucius placed a hand on his son's shoulder and turned him around. "Yes," he answered, looking into his son's eyes. "All of that and more." He lifted his hand hesitantly and placed it timidly on the younger wizard's cheek. "You are my hope for the future, Son. You've always been. That's why I…" He pulled his hand away and balled it into a fist, dropping it to his side. He looked back at the mural. "All I ever wanted was a better life for you. For you to be a better man than I ever could. And you've done that." He glanced at his son again. "I'm proud of you, Son."

Those small words were all Draco had ever wanted to hear.

* * *

Author's Note: Yeah. I had to add this epilogue. I really hope you've enjoyed this journey as much as I have. Please leave a comment to let me know what you think.

Honoria Granger: But... she did tell Draco and everyone that she was pregnant? ;)

SereniteRose: I have started a new story called The Dare. It's a bit smuttier than this one and a little... well, it's my story, so it promises to be a fun ride.

Chester99: I honestly don't think Hermione would ever be able to grow as an individual with Ron around her. Especially if she tried to be apart from him. He's too clingy. (There are soooo many reasons why I don't like that cannon pairing.)

AnnaCelestine: It is a bit irritating, but necessary, I think. I could easily write more on this story and may even do so at a later date. Who knows? (I'm sure Narcissa is just thrilled by how Slytherin her son is. .)

Doll482223 and SusanMarieS: Thank you both for your lovely comments. I'm glad you enjoyed my story.

Don't forget to check out The Dare, if you're interested guys. I will warn you, though, it's not for everyone as it gets a bit... dark. Also, look me up on Pinterest. Name's tassanab there.


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